Shades of Grey
by banjkazfan
Summary: Wayne's World Watching your life pass you by is bad enough. Watching your afterlife fly by is even worse. But what if you had a chance to come back after seeing the future without you? 8.19.08. Hang onto your soul; here we go again!
1. Too Late

((A/N: I know that nobody really likes these long author's notes, so I'm just going to beg for a few minutes of your time…

Spoilers: Post Wayne's World 1 and 2. Well, kind of. This picks up about halfway through Wayne's World 2.

Er…that's it. Heh, that wasn't so long after all…

Thanks for reading, and please enjoy the fic!))

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_**Right or wrong, black and white…cross the line, you're gonna pay…in the dawn, before the light…live or die by shades of grey…**_

…………………………………………………………………………

"**O**h my God, what happened?!"

"Shit, shit, shit, what on God's earth happened?!"

"That car came out of nowhere!"

"Didn't he see it?!"

"Didn't you just hear me?! How could he have seen it? It came out of nowhere!"

"Oh God…"

An ambulance came screaming up the street with sirens blaring. When it screeched to a halt, one of the medics hurried up to the body lying on the street, followed closely by a second one. He knelt next to the body and placed his fingers gently on the neck. He waited for a few moments before solemnly shaking his head and rising to his feet.

"Dead, I'm afraid," he murmured. "Nothing we can do for him now…"

Gently the two medics lifted the body onto a stretcher and pulled a sheet over it. Moments before the 22-year old with a head of shoulder-length brown hair was covered up completely, a young man around the same age as the one on the stretcher made his way through the crowd. His long, blonde hair fluttered slightly in the light breeze as his oversized glasses fogged up with tears. Eventually he approached the stretcher and tenderly touched the familiar brown hair of his best friend.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Algar," one of the medics said, recognizing the young man and knowing his connection to the body on the stretcher. "But…you'll have to let us move along…" He uncomfortably loaded the stretcher into the ambulance, trying not to look anyone in the eye.

"Oh, please, God, no," the blonde-haired youth groaned, sinking to the ground. He grimaced a bit, feeling the hot gravel of the street dig into his knees through the holes in his jeans. "God, please don't take him from me yet…"

A young woman with long black hair and slightly dark skin approached the youth. She gently placed a hand on his shoulder, kneeling next to him. He gave a start, turning to face her, and she gave him a sad smile.

"I was too late, too," she murmured. "I…I wish I had listened to him sooner." Tears threatened to spill over as she hugged the other youth tightly, the heat of their bodies mingling with the heat of the gravel still sticky with tar and the heat of the disgustingly blistering June day.

…………………………………………………………………………

**U**p in the sky, a young man slowly opened his brown eyes and realized that he was looking straight down into the city below him. He gave a startled yelp and attempted to right himself, flailing around in fear. Realizing quickly that he was floating and not falling, he blinked and crossed his legs underneath him, sitting Indian-style in the sky.

"Well, this is weird," he murmured under his breath. "…where the hell am I?"

He closed his eyes and racked his brain, trying desperately to think of what had led up to this point. He was so immersed in his thinking that he didn't notice that he was slowly sinking to the ground, at least not until his feet touched the ground. He twitched a bit, startled, but didn't think much of it. The rain rushed down around him, calling his attention through the sounds. He gave a glance-around, and then noticed that he wasn't wet at all.

"What the—" he started, but stopped when he heard crying. The crying started as a small series of sobbing, but escalated quickly into a full-out wail. His blood ran cold as he recognized the voice. Quickly he sprang into action, running full-speed for the voice. Not long after, he stumbled into the scene of an accident, marked appropriately by the caution tape stretched around the whole area. Smack in the middle of the chaos were two people that he recognized—his best friend and his girlfriend. Their arms were around each other and both were crying.

"Hey, guys, what's going on?" he asked, passing through the caution tape with minimal trouble and approaching them. He knelt next to them. "Talk to me, what's happened?" But neither of them paid him any mind and continued sobbing. "Hey! What's wrong?" Quickly the young man was becoming afraid and frantically tried to put a hand on his best friend's shoulder. He gave a horrified gasp when his hand passed right through.

"What the hell is this?!" he shouted to the sky. All of a sudden, the scene froze and he cringed as a bright white light flooded his vision. A young woman's voice floated through his ears, though he couldn't spot the owner of the voice through the light.

"_Come with me, young one…there is much we must discuss."_

The young man tried to voice a refusal and a demand for answers, but his voice was frozen as well as the hubbub around him. His entire body tingled as he disappeared.

"_Fear not, young Wayne Campbell…you shall know all soon enough._"


	2. Questions

**W**hen the glaring light faded, the brown-haired youth, called Wayne, blinked in a futile attempt to clear away the purple spots on his eyes, much like those that appear when you have a bright flash in your face. After a few minutes, his vision was finally clear and he took a better look at where he was.

There wasn't much to see—just a large, golden, glowing gate. It was a good 50 feet high—at least. Wayne looked straight up at it, practically hearing his neck pop from looking up so high.

"Impressive, isn't it?"

Wayne jumped at the sound of a voice next to him. He turned to face the speaker and saw a young-looking girl with long, tan-coloured hair and bright green eyes. She smiled brightly at him and giggled at his confused look.

"Oh, it doesn't surprise me anymore…I just love to see the look of first-timers! You're Wayne Campbell, aren'tcha?" He nodded slowly, still a bit startled by the build-up of events. "Oh, I know quite a few people who've come through here, and they loved your show—"

"Maddie," a harsh voice from off in the distance warned. "Don't lie to him." At these words, the gates swung open. "You remember where we are, don't you?"

The girl, apparently named Maddie, blushed slightly at this. "Err…I don't know what you're talking about, James!" she shouted to the distant voice, trying to save face in front of Wayne.

Wayne, still stunned, followed Maddie through the gate. And instantly, it was as if they were in a whole new world—it looked like a bunch of high-schoolers crammed into a very small area, all rushing to the class on the other side of the school that they were late to, with each student starting from somewhere else. Naturally, this meant that it was earsplittingly loud as well.

"Walk through here quickly!" Maddie shouted, plugging one ear with her finger. "We need to hurry up!"

"What?" Wayne yelled back, imitating her action.

"I said, walk through here quickly! We need to hurry up!"

"WHAT?"

Maddie sighed and grabbed Wayne by the wrist, dragging him through the hubbub. Wayne tried to voice a resistance to being dragged through the clump of people, but his shout was lost in the overlapping of voices around him.

Maddie reached a regular, wooden door on the far side of the crowd and twisted the bright golden doorknob, opening the door. Stepping through that threshold was like stepping through the looking glass (("or something", later according to Wayne)); it was the complete opposite of the previous room. There was only a young man sitting at a desk within this room, with short brown hair, knelt over the desk as he wrote intently. Maddie stood still and silent for a few minutes, but got bored quickly and cleared he throat loudly. The man at the desk jumped and scattered some papers all over the floor. The hardwood mahogany floor caused the fallen papers to easily slide in every which-way, causing the young man to become very irritated with Wayne's female companion.

"Maddie!" the man shouted. "Ugh, that was important!"

"Oh, so important, I'm sure," Maddie replied boredly, picking up a piece of paper and glancing at it. "'Please help me find my missing soccer ball.' Yeah," she snorted, plunking the sheet down on the desk. "SO important."

"Madigan, you know that He looks at every one of these, and it's my job to get them organized for Him! And I can't do that with you banging down my door every few—" Suddenly the man noticed Wayne and rose from the desk, walking slowly over to him. Wayne—understandably so—became a bit weirded out by this and took a few steps backwards.

"Down, boy," Maddie warned, pulling at the man's arm. "Give him some adjustment time, he just got here."

"What's he know about the situation?" the man asked.

"Er…I told him about it," Maddie said, toeing the floor uncomfortably.

The young man turned to Wayne. "Do you have any idea what's going on?" When Wayne shook his head, the man turned and glared at Maddie. "Madigan Stoner, you've been lying _again!_ Do you know how bad that is for your image, your duties here?"

"Like I care," Maddie scoffed. "Since you're Mr. Holier-Than-Thou, what say _you_ tell Mr. Campbell about the situation?" When the man glared at her again, she rolled her eyes. "Oh, I _just_ called you a nickname, for God's sakes—" Suddenly the young man quickly clamped his hand over her mouth, eyes wide with fright.

"Shut up, Maddie!" he hissed. "Don't you remember where you are?!"

"Like I could forget," she snapped, prying his hand off of her mouth. "It's not like He's going to care about one little thing I say!"

"You know that's not true, Maddie—God cares about each one of us, and—"

"Hold the phone!" Wayne burst out. Both of the other room occupants turned to him. "Am I…am I dead?!" he demanded.

"Way to go, grace," the man muttered to Maddie under his breath. "You didn't tell him a single thing, did you?"

"Holy sh—" Wayne started, but quickly changed his mind. "—crap!"

"Not you too!" the man groaned. "You've already been influenced by Madigan here!"

"Don't call me Madigan!" Maddie demanded, whacking him in the shoulder.

"Ow! Well, let _me_ explain to you, then…you are Wayne Campbell, correct?" Wayne nodded. "Okay, nice to meet you. I'm James Hart. Yes, you are dead, and before you ask, this is heaven. Well, kind of…this is a sort of 'middle ground' that nobody ever really sees…we're more the 'behind-the-scenes' people. Maddie is a guide-in-training—her job, once she graduates to a higher level, will be to guide newcomers that are unable to adjust to heaven. I am sort of like God's right-hand-man's-right-hand-man's-right-hand-man—basically I sort all of the prayers that He receives. And yes," he said with a smile. "He does read them all."

"I can't believe this," Wayne murmured. "I'm…I'm dead?"

"Well…" James murmured, chewing on a pencil. "It's a tad confusing…here in the Middle Turf, as we call it, everybody has exactly on record who will die and when. However, Wayne…you were not on our list. Not for the next 40-plus years, at least."

"Then why am I dead?"

"Somebody down there somehow got wind of the process and changed it around, it seems, causing an unexpected death…nobody here was expecting you to die, Wayne…not yet, anyways."

"Is this some kind of punishment for what I make fun of on my show?" Wayne scoffed.

"Actually," Maddie snickered, elbowing James in the side. "James is a fan of your show…he takes about half-an-hour off every Friday to watch it!"

"Be quiet," James mumbled, turning red. "And no, Wayne, it's no punishment to you…at least, not from us."

"When you say, 'down there', do you mean…Earth or…a bit lower?" Wayne questioned hesitantly.

"Well, it could be either place, to be honest with you," James sighed. "However, rest assured, we will be on it right away, investigating who it was and apprehending the perpetrator…as well as we can from up here, anyways."

"So I'm screwed, still."

"This was where Maddie was supposed to explain things," James said, shooting a meaningful glance to the mentioned girl. "You aren't really…'screwed', as you put it, Wayne. You have a chance to come back to life."

"…I do?" he asked, shocked. "I thought…death was permanent…"

"Are you complaining?" James asked wryly.

"No, but—"

"Then shut your piehole and listen, stupid," Maddie snorted.

"While we're working to find out what happened with the 'accident', you will be…watching."

"Watching what?"

"Watching how life is going without you," James answered, honestly and softly. At this, Wayne was silent. "This is how life has been in the years following your death." He began to raise his arm and Wayne could again feel himself disappearing. However, he was able to get out a sentence before he completely disappeared.

"What do I do there?" he asked.

"Just observe," James said. "Either Maddie or someone else will be there to guide you soon enough. Until then, just watch."

Wayne had so many questions running through his head, but he couldn't get any of them out before a blinding white light again filled his eyes.


	3. Differences

**A**fter what felt like endless time, Wayne could finally open his eyes without being blinded by searing white light. He looked around and immediately recognized the place he was in as Stan Mikita's Donut Shop. He grinned a bit.

"This place sure hasn't changed a bit…even Glen, the manager, is still here," he murmured with a chuckle. "Man, that guy's here 24 hours a day…gotta wonder how he eats, or even really lives…"

Wayne sat on a stool at the bar, watching the people wander by. He sighed boredly and tried to decipher what time it was, or even what day it was. Luckily for him, fate—or a plot hole—was on his side, for there was a calendar hanging on the wall, with the date circled: Friday, May 13th.

"Oh, that's great," he muttered. "Now what year is it?"

"Oh, I'm just so proud of my little Charlotte," an overweight woman with curly brown next to him bubbled, talking excitedly to Glen. Poor Glen didn't seem terribly interested, but much to his dismay there were no other current customers to wait on, so he had no real choice but to listen. "She's in the graduating class of 2011! She gets her diploma next month; isn't that exciting?"

"Fascinating," Glen muttered, being saved by a customer calling for his attention at the opposite end of the bar.

Wayne sighed and leaned backwards against the counter, closing his eyes and draping his forearms off of the counter. "So…it's 2011…that means here, I've been dead for…wow, 18 years…"

_You aren't supposed to be here…go out and wander the streets, soup can._

"Soup can?—what the—Maddie? James? That you guys? Just get down here and explain what I'm supposed to do," Wayne sighed in an irritated manner. "I don't want to deal with this crap."

_((Hey, I wonder how your parents are?))_

_James! You're not supposed to give him hints like that, you moron! And as for you, soup can, I call you that because your last name's "Campbell"…you know, like the soup company? Get it?_

_((You're actually going to make him figure it out for himself? Maddie, the guy's 22, and he's only been dead for 10 minutes even though it's really been 18 years…give him a break.))_ James and Wayne both ignored the "soup can" joke.

_Do what you want…I'm out of here. Later, soup can._

_((Maddie—MADDIE! MADIGAN STONER, YOU GET BACK HERE NOW!))_

"Uh, James?" Wayne said, raising an eyebrow. "Maddie? ...Am I going to get any help from you two?" There was no reply within a minute or so, and thus Wayne had his answer. He sighed and rose, stretching as he did so. He adjusted the hat on his head and stuck his hands in his pockets, exiting the donut shop by slipping under an arm belonging to someone entering, and beginning to walk the streets of Aurora, as he had once done with Garth just the day before, but now he was alone…in this new world, it had been 18 years…but to Wayne, it would always feel like yesterday.

…………………………………………………………………………

_**Right or wrong, black and white…cross the line, you're gonna pay…in the dawn, before the light…live or die by shades of grey…**_

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Wayne ended up back on his old street of Pine Way and walked slowly up to his old house. He stood at the door hesitantly, wondering if he was supposed to enter…and if he was, how was he? It wasn't like he could exactly operate a doorknob in quite the same fashion as he used to…

No sooner had he wondered how to get in than he was standing in what used to be his living room. He twitched a bit in surprise and blinked a few times, glancing around. His eyes immediately fell on a young child lying on the floor in front of the TV, but the child didn't look as if he could be a progeny of Wayne's parents. This boy had short red hair and freckles, with bright green eyes and brown-framed glasses. Wayne wondered why he had such a weird feeling in his gut, but pinpointed the problem—he was standing right in front of the television, and the boy was staring straight through him—_through_ him!—at the screen and laughing hysterically at whatever was on. Wayne turned to glance at what was making the kid laugh so hard—some movie that Wayne had never seen in his life—something with a big green ogre and a small, annoying donkey, from what Wayne could tell.

Wayne raised his eyes up to the parents sitting on the couch and looked long and hard at them. No, these were definitely _not_ his parents. They looked like older versions of the young boy on the floor, (though the mother was "sans glasses") and were sharing a "I-really-don't-want-to-watch-this-movie-for-the-millionth-time-but-it-keeps-him-quiet-so-let's-keep-our-mouths-shut" look. Feeling sick and unwelcome all of a sudden, Wayne longed to escape the house.

As before, no sooner had he thought this than he was outside on the porch again. He glanced across the street at the house where Garth had used to live.

…_I wonder…_

He sprinted across the street and stood on the porch, almost raising his hand to knock before remembering that it would be impossible to do so. He smacked himself in the forehead and slowly dragged his hand down his face with a sigh.

"So, how do I do this? Last time, all I had to do was think that I wanted to go in there, and I ended up in there…"

"How 'boutcha try walking through the door, genius?"

Wayne yelped and jumped about 10 feet in the air. "Holy—jeez, Maddie! Don't scare me like that!"

Maddie was hovering in the air before him, cross-legged—and upside down—with a sour look on her face. "How should I scare you, soup can? By dressing up as the Grim Reaper and hitting you with a large wooden stick?" She righted herself so she wouldn't have to crane her neck to see Wayne.

"Should angels really be making jokes like that?"

Maddie's laughter echoed through the quiet suburb, greatly contrasting her foul mood from only a few moments before. "Oh, that's funny!" she snorted between giggles. "You seriously think I'm like an _angel_?! I'm the least angelic of us all!"

Wayne wasn't quite sure how to respond, and avoided doing such by changing the subject. "So…all I do is walk through the door?"

"Yup," Maddie said, recognizing the aversion.

Wayne took a few steps forward and smashed face-first into the door, which caused Maddie to explode in another round of laughter.

"Oh, God, you're such an IDIOT, soup can!" she shouted, gasping for air in-between laughs. "You seriously think you can just walk into houses like that?! You were right the **first** time, moron!"

Grumbling, Wayne focused his thoughts on going through the door, resisting the urge to kick Maddie in the shin.

_She's definitely __not__ angelic._

…………………………………………………………………………

"Dan? Dan, where are you ? Come on, come out and take your bath! Don't make me come find you!"

Wayne opened his eyes with a start. That voice…it was so familiar, but somehow…different.

_Could it really be him?_

He slowly walked down the familiar hallway that he had seen many times before, pleased to see that it hadn't changed much…well, except that Garth's parents weren't there, but Wayne imagined that they had moved out.

"Hold up," he thought aloud. "Garth and I lived in the old Acme doll factory…so why's he living here where he used to live?"

"He couldn't take the huge, spacious area of the doll factory…not with you gone, leaving him alone."

Wayne gave a cry of surprise as he whirled around and saw James smiling at him. "James! Wh—what're you doing here?!"

"I figured you'd probably need a nudge in the right direction, due to you not knowing the new world as well as the people who live here, and as we know, Maddie isn't exactly the most…er, _helpful_ of people," James said. Wayne snorted. "Yes, your suspicions are correct…Garth lives here now…his parents moved to California about 6 years ago."

"Who's Dan?" Wayne asked.

"Go find out," James said with a light shrug. "I can't tell you everything." With that parting shot, James disappeared in a soft golden glow.

"Thanks a pantload, Chet," Wayne muttered under his breath, sticking his hands in his pockets and walking down the hall. Just as he rounded a corner leading into the kitchen, he gave another cry of surprise—he nearly walked right into Garth!

"Garth, jeez! You scared me—sorry about that!" he said without thinking. When Garth didn't answer him, Wayne became a bit frustrated. "Hey, don't ignore me, man!" He put his hand on Garth's shoulder and gasped when it passed through. Wayne ground his teeth and lowered his head. _Dammit, I keep forgetting…_

Wayne looked carefully at his best friend; it didn't appear that Garth had changed much in 18 years. He had traded the "retro" band t-shirts for a newer band—some band called "Foo Fighters" that Wayne didn't even recognize—but had kept the jeans, and his old hairstyle. The only major difference was that Garth looked older (after some quick calculation, Wayne realized that Garth would now be 40) and his hair was a bit shorter than it used to be. Wayne was so relieved to see someone that was at least moderately the same that he nearly hugged Garth and/or burst into tears of joy.

"DAN!" Garth shouted suddenly, shattering Wayne's eardrum. "You come out and take your bath NOW! Where are you hiding?!"

Suddenly, there was the startled yelp of a child, and a familiar female voice calling from another room. "I found him, Garth!—ugh, oh my GOD! Garth, he was hiding in the VACUUM! Get the water started, he's going in there right away!"

The owner of the voice entered the room, holding a small, squirming, screaming child in her arms. Wayne's eyes darted to the woman and he gasped. The woman that was now—he assumed—married to Garth was Betty Jo, the woman from the permit office.

Wayne, after shaking off his surprise, looked at the kid. The kid appeared to be about 7, and had Garth and Betty Jo's hair, though it only came down to about his cheeks. Amazingly, the kid had gotten away without glasses, though both of his parents were visually challenged. He had Garth's bright blue eyes (which were slightly brighter than Betty Jo's, Wayne had thought) and spunk, and Betty Jo's quirk of twisting his mouth to the right side of his face. It was a little hard to decipher any more features, though, as he was covered from head to toe in soot from the vacuum—Wayne cringed upon realizing that the kid had quite a set of lungs, as he was STILL screaming.

"Dad, could you make him keep it _down_?" a young female's voice called in exasperation from another room down the hall. "He's really starting to bug me, and I can't concentrate on my homework!"

"Sorry, Kimberly," Garth called back apologetically. "It's bath night—you might want to wait a bit before working on the homework if it's quiet you need!"

A dramatic sigh came from the room, and a young woman came strutting down the hallway. She looked much like Garth had in his teenage years—Wayne even noted that she was wearing Garth's old Aerosmith t-shirt and the plaid shirt he used to wear over it—from her eyes down to her shoes. She had also managed to escape the fate of glasses—though upon closer inspection, Wayne realized that she had contacts—and kept her bushy "Algar hair" as Wayne had come to lovingly call it in a ponytail. She flopped down on the couch moodily and grabbed for a big, thick comic book collection called "Runaways". She paged through it and glanced boredly through the panels and word bubbles. Slightly intrigued by the comic, Wayne craned his neck to try and read over the girl's shoulder.

Betty Jo lugged Dan through the hallways and into the bathroom. There was the sound of the door slammed, followed by a loud splash and Dan screaming. Wayne rubbed his forehead lightly and chuckled.

Garth sat down next to the young woman and put a hand on her shoulder. "Kimby…is something wrong?"

"It's nothing," Kimberly grumped. She slammed the book shut, much to Wayne's annoyance, and curled her knees up to her chest. She had a very irritated look on her face as she rested her chin on her knees and turned away from Garth.

"Kim, I may not be the most observant Dad in the world," Garth said, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder, "but I can tell when there's something wrong with my Kimberly. What is it, sweetie?"

Wayne flinched at the word "sweetie", remembering when he had freaked Garth out the other night with the "leprechaun" reference and then calmed him down by repeatedly saying "sweetie, sweetie, it's me!"—and then freaking him out again.

"I—" Kimberly began, when a set of footsteps coming up from the basement cut her off. The door swung open and a new figure entered the room. Wayne glanced up and did a double-take. After looking over the person, he inhaled sharply at the sight of her familiarity.

She stood in the doorframe of the basement with a sour look on her face and her arms crossed. She was clad in a pair of blue jeans and a black T-shirt (and no shoes), with brown eyes and shoulder-length brown hair—but the part of her that caught Wayne's attention was his old "Wayne's World" hat on her head.

"I am NOT moving to California," she declared loudly.

"Bri, this isn't the right time to talk about this," Garth said. "C…can we talk about this later?"

"Why do we have to move?!" the teenage Wayne-look-alike growled. "I like it here! All of my friends are here!"

"Brittany," Garth said gently. "It's…it's too crowded here in this house for us…we need to find a bigger place, and there's one in California that we've been looking at—"

"So just find a bigger place here in Aurora!" the girl—apparently named Brittany—snapped. "Why can't we just stay here?!"

"…I'm sorry, Brit," Garth murmured. "We just can't."

Brittany gave an irritated sigh. "Fine, I'll find someone to live with _here_, and _you_ guys can move to Califuc—"

"You can stop right there, young lady," Garth said, raising his voice and standing up. "I suggest you turn around and go back to your room, and I will come get you when I am finished talking to Kimberly."

Brittany clenched her fists until her knuckles turned white, standing there with her head down. She stood there for a full 2 minutes before she turned and slammed the basement door on her way downstairs.


	4. Rhapsody

**W**ayne was torn between staying and listening to Kimberly and Garth or following Brittany down into the basement. He decided on the former and waited patiently while Kimberly gathered her thoughts.

"That is what I'm ticked about!" Kimberly said after a moment, raising her voice slightly and pointing angrily at the stairs. "She always does crap like that, and you're always all nice to her no matter what shit she says!" Wayne flinched slightly at the girl swearing, knowing that Garth had rarely sworn for as long as he'd known him, but his friend hardly seemed fazed by the teenager's frustration.

"Kim, you know why she's here," Garth said, sighing. "And…I try to make sure that you both feel loved, while at the same time trying to deal with Dan, and…" He put his arms around Kimberly and pulled her close. "I'm sorry, hon," he said with a sigh. "I guess that even after all this time, I'm still no good at being a Dad."

"I never said you were a bad Dad!" Kimberly corrected hurriedly. "I love you, Daddy." They hugged each other tightly, neither of them speaking for several minutes.

Wayne averted his eyes, feeling as if he was intruding on a private moment. For a moment, his thoughts flashed to the girl in the basement, and before he could even think the words, he was there. He was starting to be disturbed less and less by the abrupt scene changes and tilted his head slightly, watching the figure hunched over the desk. After a moment, she rose and closed a notebook on her desk, stretching and walking over to a dresser. It took Wayne a moment to realize that Garth's basement had been revamped into a bedroom for this girl, Brittany. No wonder they were thinking about moving—the house had been crowded enough as it was with just Garth, his sister, and his parents.

After shaking this off, Wayne—curious little sneak he was—decided to take a stroll over to the desk and look at the notebook. Obviously he was expecting some dirty, juicy journal entries, and obviously he was disappointed to find that it was nothing more than a boring math notebook. Bummer, he couldn't even have opened the book anyways.

Wayne leaned against the desk and watched Brittany flit around her room, hurriedly scooping some clothes up and dumping them into a hamper and making her bed. After a few minutes, she stopped and smiled, satisfied with the quick job. She walked over to her stereo and popped in a CD, turning the volume up. Wayne's blood ran cold as he recognized the song and watched her dance to it for a few minutes. He was practically frozen in place, forced to relive moments from times gone by…

_**I see a little silhouetto of a man/Scaramouche, scaramouche, will you do the fandango?/Thunderbolts and lightning, very very frightening me**_

Wayne gave a chuckle of amusement as she then proceeded to sing "Galileo" in four different pitches and continued singing along with the song. When she reached the familiar "headbanging" part, Wayne felt his stomach turn at how much like him she acted, and how much of himself he saw in the girl.

Suddenly the basement door opened, causing both Wayne and Brittany to jump. Garth came down the stairs and knocked gently on the wall. "Bri…can I come in?"

"Sure," Brittany said with a shrug. She walked over and shut off Bohemian Rhapsody, which was still playing. Garth sat down on her bed and patted the spot next to him, signaling that she should sit down next to him, which she did.

"Brittany…could you please take off that hat?" Garth asked carefully with a grimace. Wayne cringed as Brittany snapped her head up and the fire in her eyes broadcast clearly. _Bad conversation opener, man…_

"Why?" she asked in a steely voice.

"You _know_ why, Brittany!" Garth said angrily, raising his voice a bit. "You know I don't care if you wear it anywhere else, but please don't wear it here!"

She didn't say a word as she yanked the hat roughly off of her head and threw it backwards onto her bed. Wayne gave a gasp of horror and glowered at Brittany. "Hey!" he shouted at her. "Be _careful _with that hat! That's my _baby_ you just threw!"

"I'm sorry, Brit," Garth said gently, calmed down now that the hat was gone. He tried to put an arm around her, but she shuffled away.

"Jeez, what's so bad about her being a fan of Wayne's World?" Wayne wondered aloud. "Still…how the hell did she get my hat? I was still wearing it when I died…" He pondered this for a minute. "Oh, wait, I bet I know…I remember that with planning Waynestock, my show started to get popular and they started commercializing my hat…pissed me off, too," he muttered as an aside. "But, no way could that be my hat..."

"It's just…a lot of painful memories from that hat," Garth said softly. "I…I hate seeing it, to this day…" Brittany refused to look at him, so Garth sighed and continued. "Look, Brittany…I know you don't want to move to California…but it's convenient for us, and you'll get to know your grandparents if you live there! Plus, you'll make new friends…I don't say it'll be easy, but it can be done…" Wayne shook his head, watching Brittany get madder and madder with every sentence.

"First off, they're NOT my grandparents!" she shouted, standing up and startling Garth. "They're YOUR parents!"

"Uh, kid?" Wayne thought aloud. "That makes them your grandparents!"

"Second, I will NOT make new friends! My friends are here in Aurora, and guess what? They don't judge me based on who my family is and was!"

"Admirable quality in a friend," Wayne relented.

"And lastly…HOW is it convenient for _us_?! _You're_ just running from the past, Garth!"

Wayne stood in shock as Brittany's chest heaved and she continued to angrily point at Garth. _She…she called him Garth…but why not Dad…? Unless…unless he's not…_

Garth sighed deeply. "I'm sorry, Brittany…maybe it's true that I'm running, but I'm not very good at facing problems head-on…that was your father, and…I'm not him." He stood and walked out of the room, leaving both Brittany and Wayne stunned.

_So Brittany _isn't_ Garth's kid…but why is she here? Why does she live with the Algar family if she's not an Algar…?_

Wayne watched as Brittany opened a drawer in her dresser and pulled out a picture. She sat on her bed, holding it for a few minutes and just staring. Wayne stood behind her and blinked in surprise—the picture was one of him and Garth.

"Wow, haven't seen that picture for a while," he thought aloud. "Why does she have it…?"

"Dad," she whispered softly, touching the picture. "Why…why did you have to go and die…and leave me in this hell?"

Wayne froze and looked at where Brittany was touching the picture. _She was touching Wayne's face. _


	5. Contact

"Holy—kid, I'm not your Dad!" he shouted in her face, forgetting that she couldn't hear him. "There's no way I can be your Dad! You're too old to be my kid! Cassandra wasn't even pregnant!" He didn't realize that his shouting was rising in pitch and hysteria until he felt a gentle tap on his shoulder. Wayne whirled around in fright, but relaxed when he saw Maddie. "Maddie…shit, this poor kid's so screwed up, you gotta help her…"

"No, Wayne," Maddie said softly.

"Why won't you help her? She needs all the help she can—"

"_No_, Wayne," Maddie said, a bit more forcefully.

"What the hell is wrong with you—?"

"What the hell is wrong with YOU, Wayne?!" Maddie shouted. She grabbed Wayne by the shoulders and shouted right into his face, "**SHE IS YOUR DAUGHTER! ** WHY THE HELL CAN'T YOU _SEE_ IT, GODDA—"

"MADDIE!" James shouted, appearing on the scene and wrenching Maddie away from Wayne. "Maddie, calm down!" He placed his hands on her face and spoke so softly that Wayne couldn't hear his words. Whatever he was saying seemed to calm Maddie down, though, as the red tint to her face faded as he spoke. When she was suitably calm, James turned his attention to Wayne.

"Wayne," he said softly, placing his hands on Wayne's shoulders. "_Brittany is your daughter_. Cassandra was only a few months pregnant when you died…shortly after you died, she began to tour with Crucial Taunt, and…" He cringed. "…she started dating Bobby."

Wayne lowered his head in defeat and sighed. Could this get any worse?

"When Bobby found out that she was pregnant—with your kid, no less—he walked out on her…she continued touring, though, and had the baby…but she realized that being on tour with a baby wasn't the greatest idea for either of them, and she nearly gave Brittany up for adoption…but Garth offered to take her in."

"Who, Cassandra or the baby?" Wayne asked.

Maddie rolled her eyes and, deciding to interrupt, gave Wayne a good slap. "Use your eyes, idiot! Do you see Cassandra here anywhere?!"

"I wish," Wayne muttered, which Maddie chose to ignore.

Wayne heard the sound of a dresser drawer closing and turned. Brittany had hidden the picture back in the drawer, and was now in the process of shutting off her light. When the room was bathed in darkness, Brittany burrowed under the covers of her bed as far as she could, scrunching herself up into a little ball of a person.

Wayne looked down at the girl and gave a small sigh. _Could she really be my kid? _He wondered to himself.

Maddie and James faded out gently, watching Wayne watch Brittany. James gave a small sigh and turned to Maddie. "…Mads?"

"Hmm?"

"D…do you think…Wayne will ever believe…?"

Maddie closed her eyes for a moment. "I…I don't know, James," she murmured frankly.

Brittany was asleep within minutes. Wayne carefully sat on the edge of her bed and continued to watch her, while trying to ignore the feeling that he knew her on a deeper level than he should've—for only having just met her.

A piece of her brown hair fell into her face, fluttering gently as she breathed. Unconsciously, Wayne moved to brush it away, surprising himself when he was able to do so.

Above him, Maddie and James shared a look—Maddie's seemed surprised, and James's seemed harsh.

"When did you tell him that he can interact with people while they're asleep?!" James demanded.

"I didn't! I didn't even know you could do that!" Maddie snapped back defensively, quickly putting her hands up in a "don't-look-at-me" gesture. "But why can he?"

James relaxed a bit, slipping into his explanation mode. "The human body is more in-sync with the spirit world-slash-afterlife while asleep…something to do with the harmonics. This is also typically why some people claim to have seen deceased loved ones in the night, though they swear they aren't asleep."

"Interesting," Maddie frowned. "But you say everything's in-sync at night?" James nodded. "What's Lance Bass got to do with it?"

It took James a moment to get the joke, but when he did, he closed his eyes tightly and sighed deeply as Maddie snickered. "Grow up, Maddie," he muttered.

Meanwhile, Wayne had figured out for himself that he could interact with Brittany (who was still asleep). He did everything from brush her hair out of her face to pry her eyelids open.

"Looks like you're not the only one that needs to grow up, Maddie," James pointed out. Wayne took no offense to the insult, seeing as he couldn't hear it from the "spiritual plane", almost, that James and Maddie were on.

Wayne gave a jump of surprise when Brittany twitched a little and murmured sleepily. He breathed a sigh of relief when she stayed asleep, but stiffened momentarily when she opened her eyes. There was a brief moment of thankful realization when he remembered that Brittany couldn't see him. However, he was wrong—_hey, it's known to happen once in a while,_ he thought to himself later—Brittany opened her brown eyes and stared right at him. Wayne felt cold all over all of a sudden as he tightly shut his eyes.

_She can't see me she can't see me she can't see me I'm invisible I'm invisible I'm invisible she can't see me—_

His frantic thought train was cut off by a voice in his ears: "…Dad…?"

Wayne's eyes snapped open and realized…_she's still looking at me._

"Um…go back to sleep," he said awkwardly, leaping up from her bed and slowly stepping backwards. "You…uh, you…don't know me…"

"Of course I know you," Brittany said sleepily, though the indignant tone in her voice rang clear. "I recognize you from the picture I have in my drawer…you're my Dad."

Maddie and James gave each other a worried look. "Oh, _damn_," Maddie whispered fiercely. "They weren't supposed to meet each other _yet_!"

"Well, nothing we can do about it now," James sighed. "We'll have to see how Wayne handles this…we can intervene if need be."

"What are you doing here?" Brittany asked, unsure if she was awake or dreaming. _My Dad…he's alive? I've gotta be dreaming…_

"Well, I'm not sure I understand it myself," Wayne said. "From what I do understand, back in 1993, I was killed in a car accident, but according to the angels that guided me through heaven when I got there, I wasn't supposed to die…so while they're trying to figure out who botched _that_ up, I'm supposed to be watching how life's going down here, nearly 20 years later."

Brittany stared long and hard at Wayne, trying even moreso than before to figure out if she was awake or not. "Why…why weren't you supposed to die then?" she questioned cautiously.

"What, did you want me to?" Wayne shot back with a wry smile, sitting back down on the bed. "I dunno…they have some sort of book or something that says when a person's supposed to die and other shit like that, I guess."

"It's kind of hard to believe that you're my Dad," Brittany said, propping herself up on one elbow. "I mean…you're just so much like…like a normal, teenage kid."

"Thanks, I guess," Wayne chuckled. "I was 22 when I died—same age as Garth."

"Wow," Brittany said. "So if you were still alive, you'd be 40?"

"I think so," Wayne said.

"And if you were still alive, I wouldn't be here in this house."

Wayne paused. He brought his right knee up to his chin and rested his head on it, letting his left leg dangle off of the bed. "Why don't you like it here?"

"Because it's not where I belong," Brittany sighed, becoming a bit frustrated with this strange dream. Why couldn't she wake up already? "I belong with you and Mom, not with Garth and Betty Jo!"

"But they both love you," Wayne said, weighing the words warily. He had never been terribly close with his parents, so to try and preach about family love and other bullcrap to his alleged daughter was not a terribly smart move on his part; thus he had to word things carefully.

"They don't love me, they pity me," Brittany corrected. "Garth took me in so I wouldn't get thrown into a whirlwind of foster homes; Betty Jo didn't seem too thrilled with me at first, but she didn't really have much of a choice about it."

"But you've grown on each other?"

"Yeah, we've grown apart," she replied cynically.

"So, what's with you and Kim? Are you two friends, like me and Garth were?" Wayne asked, changing the subject successfully. Brittany recognized the jump, but decided to go along with it.

"Well, sort of. We're friends when we can stand each other, and lately that time's been growing shorter and shorter. She resents me for taking the attention away from her—and yeah, I heard them talking; I waited behind the door—and I just hate living here, which pisses her off more. We used to be really good friends, though—kinda like you and Garth," she said with a smile.

The smile fell off of her face when she saw that Wayne was fading away before her eyes. "D—Dad?" she whispered, her vision blurring with tears. "Daddy?" Reverting to a childlike state in her moment of fear, Brittany reached out with a whimper, instinctively searching for the comfort of arms.

"She's been awake too long," James murmured. "Her connection with the afterlife is weakening…"

"I'm here, sweetie, I'm here," Wayne said soothingly, speaking without thinking as he took Brittany into his arms, stroking her hair. "I'm here…and I'll always be here."

"Why weren't you here before?" she said softly.

"I don't know," he admitted. "But if you ever need me…I'm here."

"When can I see you again?" she wanted to know.

Wayne smiled a bit. "I'll have to ask my…_superiors_…but if all goes well…then, hopefully you won't remember this, because I'll have always been here for you."

"I love you, Dad."

The simple words caught Wayne by surprise. His mother hadn't often told him that she loved him, he had always assumed that such was the truth; the words were unnecessary in the Campbell household. He had only been told so by another human being other than his family by Cassandra, and the words had always been so easy to say to her.

So why was it so damn hard to say to his own _kid_?

"I…" he started weakly. What was he supposed to do, lie to her? He barely knew her! But after looking into the brown eyes that Wayne could easily mistake for Cassandra's, he knew that deep in his heart there was love for this child that was his own.

The love of a parent works in strange and mysterious ways. Though Wayne had never met Brittany before earlier in the evening, he somehow felt attached to her, as if he had known her for all of his life—or her life, actually. Finding out that she was his daughter simply gave a sort of channel for the attachment, and the attachment had turned into love without Wayne realizing it.

His brain was about to explode from all of the thinking, but he loved her.

"I love you too, Brittany," he said gently. A smile spread slowly across her face, and Wayne closed his eyes to save the mental picture. When he opened them again, he was floating with James and Maddie above the house.

"We're…outside," he said stupidly.

"Acute observation, soup can," Maddie snorted.

"Well done, Wayne," James said with a laugh. "We weren't sure that you'd be able to handle actual conversation with your daughter, but you did just fine without our intervention! Great job!"

"Will I be able to see her again?" Wayne asked without prelude. Maddie and James shared another look.

"Possibly," James said slowly. "She needs to be asleep for any sort of connection, but both of you are tapped out for now…there's no way you could talk to her tomorrow, or probably even for the rest of the week…by Tuesday, I'd say you'd be strong enough to try again for contact. Now remember, she's a human, and she needs sleep…trying this too often could screw up her sleeping, and thus her performance in school would fail, and—"

"James," Maddie cut him off curtly.

"Madigan, I was explaining something—"

"JAMES!" Maddie interrupted again, much more urgently than the first time. "James, we're losing him!"

Wayne, exhausted from the long exchange with Brittany, had collapsed, falling over 10 feet to the sidewalk below, which startled Maddie enough to even dare to interrupt James from his explication mode. Both archangels hurried to their friend's aid, hoisting him up by the arms.

"What do we do with him now, genius?!" Maddie snapped. "We can't exactly take him up there with us, now can we?"

"I'm thinking, I'm thinking!" James protested. "Gimme a minute, jeez!"

After a few minutes, the angels weren't sure what to do, so they decided to wait it out on the Algar's front lawn, awaiting the waking of their charge.

**((A/N: I know that this chapter kind of ended abruptly, but I didn't want to keep my faithful readers/reviewers waiting for a very long time…I know where I'm going, I'm just not sure how to get there.**

**Thanks so much to WakkoRyan, The Illustrious Crackpot, and Tanya Reed for reading/reviewing, and I hope you continue to do so!))**


	6. Roll Call

**W**hen Wayne opened his eyes, the sun was shining and he felt like he had a killer hangover. Also noteworthy, he thought, was that he was lying in the Algar family's front yard. His head throbbed painfully and he groaned, pressing his head into his hand. James, who was sitting nearby, jumped a bit at Wayne's voice and came over to him.

"Welcome back," he said. "You've been out for a few days…it's Monday morning right now."

"Oh my God," Wayne moaned, flopping back into the grass. "I feel like I've been run over with a steamroller…"

At that moment, Maddie materialized, driving a steamroller, and she plowed Wayne right over. The sensation wasn't exactly painful, as it was just an illusion, but it sure didn't feel good. After Maddie had successfully flattened Wayne, he re-inflated from his paper-like state and glowered at Maddie.

"What was _that_ for?!" he demanded.

"Nothing," Maddie smirked. "Just showing you to save hyperbole for when you really need it."

At that moment, the front door swung open, and Brittany and Kimberly ambled outside, each toting a backpack and a scowl.

"Hey, Britt!" Wayne shouted, running up beside her and slowing to her pace. "Hopefully I didn't screw you up too much by talking to you the other night…you feelin' alright today?" Brittany didn't answer and continued to scowl straight ahead. "Wh—Britt?" Wayne said confusedly, feeling the slightest bit hurt. Was she angry at him about something?

"Hey, genius," Maddie called from across the yard. "She needs to be _asleep_, remember?"

_Oops, that's right, _Wayne thought. _I nearly forgot—_

"You're not actually gonna listen to Bowman, are you?" Kimberly demanded angrily, turning towards Brittany. Brittany stopped, flung her backpack to the ground, rummaged inside, pulled out her 'Wayne's World' hat, and jerked it on.

_That _is_ my hat, _Wayne thought as a chill ran through him.

"Why not?" Brittany fired back, yanking her backpack back on. "Matt's nice!"

"Yeah, right," Kimberly snorted. "You just want to talk to him because he told you that he thinks he found something of your Dad's!"

"Shut up, Kim, you gimp!" Brittany fumed, storming down the sidewalk. Kimberly laughed.

"Oh, _good_ one, sphincter girl!" she snapped.

_Yup,_ Wayne thought, a horror-stricken look on his face. _Those are _definitely_ the offspring of me and Garth!_

"What's his so-called 'discovery', anyways?" Kimberly was relentless in her questioning towards Brittany.

"Come with me 5th period and find out," Brittany stonewalled snippily. "I thought you didn't care anyways."

"I ought to report you for skipping!" Kimberly shot back. "You know that's against the rules of Aurora High—"

"Oh, SHUT UP!" Brittany exploded. "I'm not even sure I'm gonna do it! Not that it's any of your business, considering that you're so loyal to your Daddy that you couldn't give a shit about mine! Did it ever occur to you that you grew up with what I didn't have—a FATHER?!"

Rather than making Kimberly see things Brittany's way, as Brittany had sort of expected her words to do, the rant only succeeded in making Kimberly even angrier, though she had cooled down to biting, ice-cold anger.

"Did it ever occur to _you_," she said in a grating voice, "that even though you weren't an Algar, my father took you in and raised you as if you were part of our family? Do you even _know_ all the **shit** he had to go through so _you_ wouldn't get stuck in the botched-up foster care system? And what thanks does he get for it? _Absolutely none._ You constantly rub it in his face that you're the only child of his former best friend, who he probably couldn't stand if he were even alive today. But he still takes it, because he _cares_ about what happens to you! If that doesn't make him a father," Kimberly finished angrily, "I don't know what would."

With that parting shot, Kimberly left Brittany—and Wayne—stunned. Off in the distance, where the high school lay, a bell rang.

…………………………………………………………………………

_**Right or wrong, black and white…cross the line, you're gonna pay…in the dawn, before the light…live or die by shades of grey…**_

…………………………………………………………………………

"**A**lgar, Kimberly?" the teacher called, taking the morning roll call.

"Here."

"Ark, Noah?"

"Here." The poor young boy flushed bright red as the daily snickers arose at the sound of his name.

"Baxter, Caroline?" …silence. "Alright, Bixler, Lena?"

"Here."

"Bowman, Matthew?"

"Here."

Kimberly twitched a bit at the name and turned to look at the boy who claimed he had found a possession of Brittany's father. He was very laid-back, leaning onto the desk behind him (to the delight of the shy young student that had had her eyes on Matt all year) and putting his feet up on the empty chair in front of him.

"Feet down, Bowman. Campbell, Brittany?"

At the silence, Kimberly began to worry. Brittany had been right behind her when they entered the school together, but had gone to her locker instead of going right to homeroom. Where _was _she?

…………………………………………………………………………

_**Right or wrong, black and white…cross the line, you're gonna pay…in the dawn, before the light…live or die by shades of grey…**_

…………………………………………………………………………

_**W**__ay to go, dumbass, _Brittany thought bitterly, reflecting on the morning's events. _Now you've probably lost the only friend you really have. Why couldn't you just have kept your yammering skullcave to your own damn self?_

Brittany was on the roof of Aurora High School, hiding behind a part of the building that jutted up, making room inside the structure for an attic space of sorts. She had decided to hide there until 5th period, at which time she would sneak out and meet Matthew Bowman at Stan Mikita's Donuts, which wasn't too far from the high school.

She put her head between her knees, sighing and leaning against the wall of brick behind her. _Kim probably hates me now…well, that's fine; I hate living there! I'll…_

Suddenly her eyes lit up in excitement. _I know what I'll do. I won't go to the Shitty Golden State with them…I'll find a place—_

The bell rang, scaring Brittany. She jumped a bit and quickly thought; it was around noon by then, so 4th period must've just ended, meaning that it was time to go and meet Matt to see what he had found of Wayne's.

She slipped carefully back into the building and crept through the crowds, ducking through the halls and out of the front door, running as fast as she could to Stan Mikita's.

**((A/N: Please bear in mind that I'm not a native of the Aurora, Illinois area ((or even the Illinois area)), so I've basically taken what I know about Wayne's World, combined that with the tiniest bit of geography that we're given in Wayne's World 1 and 2, and using that, created my own little fictional area. So, it's not really supposed to be like Illinois at all, I guess…))**


	7. Decisions

**W**ayne's forehead creased in worry as he watched Brittany run for the donut establishment. He had been watching her all morning, granted by James the power to listen to her thoughts, which was helpful because she hadn't spoken since Kimberly had told her off earlier.

"I've got to stop her, somehow," he said to himself, following her. "But what can I do about it?"

"Not much, really," a voice from behind him said. Wayne turned and saw Maddie floating along behind him, following Wayne just as Wayne was following Brittany.

"Why not?" he asked, feeling a bit irritable that his only idea had been thwarted.

"You can't communicate with her unless she's asleep, so even if you could talk some sense into her, you couldn't stop her," Maddie explained with a shrug. "So if you're planning on stopping her, you'll need to find another way to do so."

By this time, Brittany had already reached Stan Mikita's and had pushed open the door. "Bowman," she said, staring at her fellow peer.

"Campbell," Matthew Bowman said with a nonchalant wink, stretching his legs from the barstool he sat on and propping his feet up on the table (much to Glen's disgust). "I didn't think that you'd come."

"Of course I would," Brittany retorted, ignoring the thought that she almost hadn't. "I want to know what you found." Suddenly it occurred to her that she hadn't seen him in the hallways, or on her way there. "How long have you been here?"

"Since third period," he shrugged. "So, are you ready?"

"Yes," Brittany said, barely able to find her voice. Matt removed his feet from the table and stood, pulling his car keys out of his pocket.

"Alright, then," he said. "Let's go."

…………………………………………………………………………

_**Right or wrong, black and white…cross the line, you're gonna pay…in the dawn, before the light…live or die by shades of grey…**_

…………………………………………………………………………

**A**fter about 24 minutes of driving, Matt finally pulled up to the gate of the Aurora junkyard.

"Well, here we are," he said, leaning back into his seat and resting his hand on the steering wheel.

"The junkyard?" Brittany asked, suddenly feeling a bit unsure about the whole situation.

"Yes, it is," Matt smirked. "C'mon, I'll show what I found to you."

"That's our cue," Maddie whispered from the top of the car. "Let's go too."

"Why are we whispering?" Wayne said in a loud whisper. "They can't hear us anyways, can they?"

"No, but I'm not getting a good feeling from that boy," Maddie replied. "I have a bad feeling that he can sense us—"

"What?!" Wayne whispered harshly. "You said that nobody could see us, unless they were close to the spirit world!"

"First off," Maddie shot back, "I never said that he could see us; I said he _might_ be able to _sense_ us! Secondly, I think he _is _close to the spirit world! I think he has a very good sixth sense, and therefore can sense us!"

"Damn," Wayne whispered. "Be careful, Britt…"

Maddie and Wayne slid off of the car roof and followed the two teenagers to a small shack in the junkyard. Matt pulled the door shut behind him, temporarily blocking Wayne and Maddie from entering. Maddie bowed her head momentarily, and before you could blink they were inside. Matt was speaking with a short, stout, and older man who was all but bald seated behind a desk. The older man had three sad little hairs that were neatly combed across the top of his head, and wore a dirty nametag that said "Ebert".

"I'm here to pick up what I set aside a few days ago," Matt said. "Uh, I think it's under Jerry…Jerry Bowman."

_Jerry?_ Wayne, Maddie, and Brittany all thought. Ebert handed some papers to Matt, which Matt signed.

"You, uh, want a smoke, Jerry?" Ebert asked, pulling out a cigarette container. Matt took one and lit it with a lighter that he had in his pocket, inhaling deeply. Brittany spared him a glance, but looked away uncomfortably. "One for your lady?" Ebert offered. Matt gave Brittany a questioning look, but she shook her head.

"No thanks," she said softly. Ebert stared at her, scratching his chin.

"You look familiar," he mused aloud. "What's your name?"

"Campbell…Brittany Campbell," she replied awkwardly. Ever since Matt had pulled up to the gate, a sick feeling had settled in her stomach and wouldn't let up.

"I _knew_ it," Ebert grinned. "You're Wayne's girl!"

Wayne stared intently at Ebert for a moment as a grin broke out on his face. "Ebert! No way!"

"Who's he?" Maddie demanded.

As if he had heard Maddie, "I sold the parts to your Dad's car to him and Garth, years ago," Ebert said, offering his hand to Brittany, which she shook. "That damn carburetor gave him a shitload of trouble, though…it's a pleasure to meet his kid…how's the nut doin', anyway?"

"He's been dead for 18 years," Brittany replied quietly. Ebert gave a start of surprise and awkwardly pulled his hand away.

"…sorry t'hear that," he said gently. "He…he was a good guy…loved that car, for sure…"

"Speaking of Wayne," Matt prompted. For some reason, hearing Matt refer to her father by his first name irritated Brittany.

"Oh, right!" Ebert remembered, jumping up and holding the door of the shack for the two teens (and the two angels) to exit. "Follow me, please…"

After walking for a few minutes, Ebert gave a dramatic sweep of his arm. "There it is, little lady," he said. "I understand it's being picked up for you…"

Brittany gasped. Lying not too far beyond Ebert's fingertips was the Mirthmobile, Wayne and Garth's old car—a light blue AMC Gremlin, with a flame design branching from the wheel rut. She placed a trembling hand to her mouth and looked at Matt, who was smiling. Forgetting all irritation and discomfort towards him, Brittany threw her arms around Matt's neck.

"Thank you, Matt!" she shrieked as she took the keys from Ebert's outstretched hand. Matt's eyes suddenly went wide in horror as Ebert looked at him suspiciously.

"_Matt?_" Ebert spat. "Hold up there, boy…let's see your ID!" Matt fumbled to pull his wallet out and hand his driver's license to Ebert, who squinted at it and then growled at Matt. "I see," he said, "you're just going around posing as your older brother Jerry…for some drinks and smokes, huh?! Thought you could pull one over on old Ebert!" He pulled out a cell phone, ready to call the police, but stopped and smiled a bit at Brittany's worried expression. "Don't worry, little lady," he said. "The car's been here for…about 18 years…Garth brought it in one day years ago and dropped it off…never told me why, but…if Wayne died, that makes sense…" His smile grew a little. "The papers and such are just fancy-schmancy stuff…the car's yours; don't worry. Also," he continued, "when _Matt_ here told me that he was picking it up for you, I filled it up with some gas, so it'll run for you. Hopefully," he added under his breath.

"Thank you," Brittany whispered. Matt glowered at her.

"I'll make you pay for this, Campbell," he hissed between his teeth as Brittany jumped behind the wheel of the car and started it up. She grasped the steering wheel and smiled broadly, shifting into gear and driving out of the junkyard.

…………………………………………………………………………

_**Right or wrong, black and white…cross the line, you're gonna pay…in the dawn, before the light…live or die by shades of grey…**_

…………………………………………………………………………

**B**y the time she was back in the city of Aurora, Brittany knew there was no way she could go back to school. She flinched, as it hadn't occurred to her where she could park the car…it wasn't like she could just pull up to the house driving it.

Ultimately, though, that's what she ended up having to do.

Garth was already waiting at the front door for her. "Brittany," he said disbelievingly. "What the _hell _is going on?!"

Brittany pressed her lips together and averted her eyes. "Um…someone at school told me that they had found it in a junkyard, and took me today to get it…they had signed for it so I could have it."

"Today?" Garth repeated. "You mean you cut school to get this car?!" Gulping, Brittany nodded. "Oh, God, Brittany," Garth murmured. "What am I going to _do_ with you?"

"I'll…I'll take care of the car," Brittany offered shakily.

"I expected you to do so no matter what car you chose," Garth replied wryly. "Nonetheless, I'm going to have to tell the school that you cut class…they called here to confirm your absence, and I about flipped, because I'd seen you leaving with Kim this morning."

Brittany hung her head. "I…I'm sorry, Garth," she murmured, feeling her face turn red and her eyes well up with tears.

"Me too, Brittany," he said softly, putting a hand on her shoulder. "I…I don't know what I can do anymore…we try to make you feel welcome, and you distance yourself from us…"

"It's not you," Brittany said, and that was the truth: it wasn't Garth, Betty Jo, Kimberly, and Dan that made her feel uncomfortable; it was her own sense of loneliness that kept her from opening up to any of them, as well as the feeling that she didn't belong amongst a family that was already "complete". A Mom, a Dad, a daughter, and a son…there wasn't room, in Brittany's mind, for another daughter—especially one that hadn't been born to the family.

"I believe you, Brittany," Garth said, "I just don't know what it _is_ that's making you feel as if you don't belong."

**((A/N: The only potential (I hope) error of this chapter is that I'm not sure if the Mirthmobile was a Gremlin or a DC Pacer…I've heard both, but my stepdad told me it was a Gremlin, so I trust him. If it's wrong, though, I apologize!))**


	8. Move On

**((A/N: **Whoooops! Apologies for the last chapter; the Mirthmobile was apparently a Pacer, not a Gremlin!

**B**rittany ended up with 3 days of after-school detention for skipping—relatively small price to pay, she mused to herself during detention one day. Garth's punishment, however, was a bit more severe—she was grounded for 2 weeks, and wasn't allowed to drive the car for a month. Brittany silently said a small prayer of thanks for that; she was afraid that Garth would've made her return the car, but he seemed nostalgic, in a way, to have his old car back, so she was allowed to keep it. For everything that had happened, Brittany felt as if she got off easy, almost.

Almost.

Kimberly wasn't letting her get away so easily. She had barely spoken to Brittany since coming home that day and hearing about what had happened. "You made me worry for nothing, bitch," she spat under her breath before storming up to her room. Brittany spent her two week's confinement basically living in her room, hoping that Kimberly would eventually cool down and maybe they could start again as friends. It didn't seem, however, that Kimberly was willing to extend the same chance to her.

About 6 days into Brittany's grounding, James approached Wayne. "You've been watching her for over a week now," he said gently. "Don't you think it's time to move on to someone new?"

"Who else is left?" Wayne asked bitterly. In a way, he was upset with Brittany for what he saw as a stupid decision to skip school, but at the same time, he almost felt guilty because she had only done so to find something that had once been his (well, half-his, anyways). He was also frustrated with himself that he couldn't have stopped her—he had never felt so powerless before in his life than he felt now.

"There's one person left," James said softly. Wayne turned to look at James, who hesitated before attempting to speak again—he had no need to, as Wayne interrupted suddenly.

"Cassandra," he whispered. James nodded slowly. "She's…she's doin' alright?" Wayne asked softly. James took a deep breath.

"Let's see, shall we?" he asked, waving his hands in a few small circles as they disappeared.

…………………………………………………………………………

_**Right or wrong, black and white…cross the line, you're gonna pay…in the dawn, before the light…live or die by shades of grey…**_

…………………………………………………………………………

"**Y**ou've got mail!" an electronic voice announced.

Wayne flinched a bit in surprise and opened his eyes, taking in his surroundings. He was in a small apartment, which was empty except for a lot of boxes and a desk that was set up with a computer on it. He glanced over at the computer and saw a program called "AOL" open, with a little icon up in the corner of a mailbox with a letter sticking out of it. Wayne growled a bit, frustrated with his spirit form—he had an inquisitive mind that was just itching to read that email, and he couldn't read it unless someone else opened it first.

"Oh, you stupid computer," a female voice grumbled from the background, "I hear you…you've been telling me I've got mail for 5 minutes now!"

Wayne's breath caught in his throat. Yet another familiar voice…one that had been haunting him since he saw the scene of his accident. There were no tears in her voice this time, but the tears that had been there would never leave Wayne's memory.

A tall, slightly dark-skinned woman with long, black hair stormed into the room. Wayne's heart stopped for a moment, despite the fact that as a spirit his heart wasn't really beating to begin with. Though 18 years had aged her, the woman before him was unmistakably Cassandra. She was wearing a pair of overalls with no T-shirt underneath (but, he noted while blushing a bit, a bra) and the legs rolled up to her knees. Holding her long hair away from her face was a red bandanna, and on her feet were plain white socks. She slid across the hardwood floor over to her computer and clicked on the mailbox icon.

Wayne debated for a moment whether or not it was ethical for him to read Cassandra's mail, but curiosity got the better of him and he read over her shoulder:

_Cass—_

_Hey, it's me again…sorry to bother you; hope all's well right now. How's the move going for you? All settled in yet?_

_Alright, I suppose I'd better get to the point of this email…I feel sort of bad about this, but I don't know what to do right now…_

_Brittany's just been…'off' lately, and I don't know how to help her. As I've told you before, she's always seemed to distance herself from the rest of the family, but lately it's been worse…the other day, she cut class to meet some boy who took her to a junkyard to pick up the Mirthmobile (which I dropped off there a long time ago), and she's been wearing Wayne's hat a lot more often. She and Kim seem to be fighting, but I'm not sure about what…neither of them will talk about it, or even talk to each other._

_I wouldn't email you unless I was completely unsure of what to do…she's your daughter, so I thought maybe you'd have some ideas or maybe understand because she's a female too…God, I just don't know what to do!_

_Sorry to dump that all on you…so to kind of make up for it, I attached a few recent pictures that Betty Jo took of the girls and Dan._

_Good luck with the move!_

_Garth_

**C**assandra sighed a bit, putting her head into her hand. "Oh, Brittany," she whispered, "why can't you just let Garth take care of you?"

"Because _you're_ supposed to be a mother to her!" Wayne shouted without thinking. After realizing what he had said, he quickly covered his mouth with his hand, forgetting yet again that he couldn't be heard.

Cassandra looked at the pictures that Garth had enclosed in the email and half-smiled. There was no doubt in her mind that the smiling, brown-eyed-and-haired girl was the child of herself and Wayne Campbell.

_Wayne._ Cassandra's heart gave a sudden lurch—she hadn't thought of him in a few months, and thinking about him brought back the horrid memories of the night he had died. Garth had been there at the scene of the accident, and she had tried to hold strong for the young man as he broke down right before her eyes, but it had all been just an act…

Cassandra had continued touring with Crucial Taunt, all the way through her pregnancy. After Brittany was born and safely living with Garth, Cassandra had tried once again to date. A handsome young man named Hiroshi Tezuka had caught her eye at one of the concerts in Japan, and he had attempted to speak with her. Cassandra was happy to talk with him, and accepted his invitation to coffee. From there, their relationship had blossomed massively. In fact, the reason that Cassandra was moving was so that she could move into an apartment with Hiroshi.

However, while Cassandra knew nearly everything about Hiroshi's past, he knew far less about her. While staying at her loft, many times, in the sweltering July nights especially, she had thrashed about in her sleep, crying for someone named Wayne. Upon waking and questioning her, Cassandra simply waved it off as 'bad dream' and refused to speak more about it. Due to her unwillingness to talk with Hiroshi, he simply assumed that she was telling him the truth, that it was nothing more than bad dreams.

Suddenly the front door opened, and a male's voice called out, jarring Cassandra from her thoughts, "Cassie! You in here?"

"No," Cassandra shouted back, quickly closing the email. "Not here! Just me and the boxes!"

The deep voice laughed a bit as its owner came into the room. "Oh, Cassie," a tall man with skin that was similar to Cassandra's said, "you always know just how to make me laugh." He brushed a bit of his long, black hair out of his light brown eyes and smiled, pulling Cassandra into his arms.

_Cassie_ Wayne thought in disgust. That was one name he had never dared to call Cassandra, for he knew how much she detested the name. So why was _this_ guy allowed to call her Cassie? From what Wayne, still able to read thoughts, had gathered from Cassandra, this man was none other than Hiroshi Tezuka.

"Are you doing anything tonight?" Hiroshi continued, stroking her hair.

"Only getting you to haul your lazy ass and help me move your stuff in," Cassandra snorted, pulling away from the man and kneeling in front of a box. "I'm sorry, Hiroshi, but I can't move everything myself!" She tore the tape off of the box and turned back to Hiroshi. "Would you like a drink or something?" she asked. "I've got the glasses in the cupboards already!"

"Sure, thanks," Hiroshi said. "A Coke would be good." While Cassandra searched in the kitchen for the case of Coke ("Dammit, how can I lose a 24-pack of Coke when it's all that keeps me going?!"), Hiroshi searched through the overstuffed box that Cassandra had just ripped the tape off of. It was a majority of their DVD collection; most of the DVDs belonged to Hiroshi. He searched through them, a tad disgusted that his alphabetical order had gotten screwed up in the move. _Shrek , Austin Powers , This Is Spinal Tap—damn, it's gonna take forever to put these back in the right order!—Hot Shots, So I Married an Axe Murderer, Beavis and Butthead Do America, The Shot…what the _hellStartled, Hiroshi pulled out two VHS tapes that he was sure hadn't been at the loft—at least, not that he had seen. Oddly enough, the VHS tapes weren't on top of the DVDs—being smaller, stacking the tapes on top would've made for better packing—but buried deep within the box, right underneath _The Shot_.

Hiroshi carefully examined the tape that had been on top: _Wayne's World_. It had a picture of two weird-looking guys in the air—one with long brown hair and a black hat that had the movie's title in white letters, and the other with long blonde hair and black glasses—almost like they were floating over the davenport, which was floating over the top part of the globe at the bottom of the picture. The second tape was titled _Wayne's World 2_, and pictured the same two weird-looking guys, each with a silly grin on their faces, and the one with the _Wayne's World_ hat on his head giving bunny ears to the other one.

Hiroshi frowned a bit. He had never seen them before in Cassandra's loft; why was that? Another thing that bugged him a little bit was that the tapes set off the uniformity of the DVD collection. He chuckled; Cassandra had likely forgotten all about these weird movies and had just thrown them haphazardly in the box.

"What's so funny?" Cassandra asked, coming back into the living area with a can of Coke for Hiroshi. Her eyes widened when she saw what Hiroshi was holding. "Hiroshi! P—put those DOWN! Why were you looking through my stuff?!" She made a grab for the movies, but Hiroshi pulled them out of her reach, a bit wary of her sudden defensiveness.

"Cassie, honey!" he said, trying to soothe her, "I just figured that you'd forgotten about them and would want to trade them in for DVDs…or maybe just get rid of them…"

"NO!" Cassandra snapped angrily, grasping the box and trying to pull _Wayne's World_ away from Hiroshi. "Give me that, Hiroshi Tezuka!" She managed to yank the box off of the tape, causing a picture to flutter gently to the ground. Wide-eyed in horror, Cassandra lunged to snatch up the picture, but Hiroshi beat her to it first. As Hiroshi studied it carefully, Cassandra felt dread in her throat slowly creeping up like bile—Hiroshi had nearly allowed her to forget…

It was a picture of Cassandra and those two weird guys from the movie box—the one with the brown hair and black _Wayne's World _hat had one arm around Cassandra's shoulders, and the other arm around the shoulders of the other guy with the long blonde hair and glasses. The picture alone startled Hiroshi, but then he realized that the picture was signed by these two guys.

Over the blonde was written: _"Cassandra—Wayne told me that in French, you'd be called _La Renard, _and would be hunted with only your cunning to protect you…_

_Not quite sure what that means, but I think it means you're a fox. Party on!_

_--Garth"_

Over the hat-wearing guy was written: _"Cass—these past few months have been great—I'm so glad that Garth and I have gotten to know you, and I feel really lucky that you're my girlfriend…know that I'll always love you, Cassandra, and I'd do anything I can for you._

_--Wayne_"

_Dear God,_ Wayne thought, putting his head into his hand. _What was I _on_ when I wrote that?! _However, Cassandra, he vaguely remembered, had loved the message—she had called it sweet and sensitive, and kissed him immediately after he and Garth had signed the picture.

"Cassie," Hiroshi murmured unsteadily. "What…the _hell_…_is_ this?!"

"_This_," Cassandra snapped, snatching the picture back from Hiroshi, "is my favourite picture of my two best friends and me. Not just my two best friends, but…Wayne was my boyfriend." This declaration, rather than keep Hiroshi at bay as she had hoped, only pulled the man closer.

"_Was_?" he inquired. "You mean you two broke up? Do you still talk to him?" He realized that he sounded overeager, but he had to know for sure—he felt for sure that Cassandra loved him, but at times, she seemed to be unable to completely open up to him, and that hurt…he planned to marry the woman someday, and if he didn't know everything that he could about her, the marriage would fall apart in his mind.

"No," Cassandra whispered softly, turning away from Hiroshi. "He…he was killed…18 years ago…" Her voice broke slightly and she leaned her weight onto one hip. The feminine stance wasn't lost on Hiroshi, and it made her seem fragile and made him want to protect her all the more. When he tried to put his arms around her, she pulled away. 18 years later, this still hurt her so much that she hadn't even told Hiroshi…why? He could imagine the pain that she had felt, but it had been nearly 20 years…wasn't it time she moved on, and focused on other things—like the prospect of a new life with Hiroshi?

"I think you'd better leave," she whispered.

"I think I'd better," Hiroshi spat back, feeling hurt. "Until you can answer me this honestly: are you sure that you love me, Cassie? Or are you still holding a torch for a dead man?"

He stormed out the door and down to his car. Just before he slammed the car door, Cassandra, in a fit of anger, grabbed _Hot Shots_—Hiroshi's favourite movie—and, after stomping onto the apartment's balcony, threw it as far as she could, nearly hitting his red Saturn.

"By the way," she screamed down at him as he stared at her in bewilderment. "I hate being called Cassie!" And with that final shot, she stormed back into the apartment and slammed the balcony door, gaining satisfaction from the way it shook the entire apartment.

**((A/N:** I know that the Japanese have surnames (like Urameshi Yusuke, in America, would be Yusuke Urameshi, because Urameshi is the equivalent of his last name—I think; I only read translated manga, so I'm still trying to figure it out for sure), but I decided to write Hiroshi's name as we would say it in America…Hiroshi Tezuka, or in Japan, Tezuka Hiroshi…

Free cookies to anyone who can tell me where I got his name from!

Also, I apologize if the confrontation with Cassandra and Hiroshi seems rushed, but I need the readers to understand that they've been together for a long time, and Hiroshi wants to marry her but she's not sure that she's ready to move on quite that far yet…

Thanks to my loyal readers/reviewers!))


	9. Going Under

**A/N: First off, a long overdue congratulation to The Illustrious Crackpot for noticing the similarities between my story and Yu Yu Hakusho volume 1! The resemblance is only partly intentional; I was fascinated with YYH when I first read it. I loved the first saga, from volumes 1 and 2, and think they could've expanded on it…ah well, had to make room for the fighting later on :P YYH is probably the only manga I still like from my manga/anime phase, and this may explain the resemblance between it and my fic.**

**On a side note, if you haven't seen Wayne's World 2, I just realized that my references to Betty Jo and Waynestock might go over the heads of some readers. :s Long story short: in Wayne's World 2, Jim Morrison appears to Wayne in a dream and tells him the purpose of his life is to put on a rock concert in Aurora, which is (rather cutely/cliché) christened Waynestock. Betty Jo is a young woman from the permit office where Wayne and Garth go to apply for a permit to have Waynestock, who (eerily enough) looks like a female version of Garth.**

**Sorry for the long rant, but thanks for reading! And again, thanks to WakkoRyan, The Illustrious Crackpot, and Tanya Reed! **

* * *

**C**assandra sat down hard on the box of books and buried her face in her hands. _What is __wrong__ with me?_ She thought angrily, lacing her fingers through her hair. Wayne felt his heart twist watching his girlfriend—_ex-girlfriend?_ He wondered—stuck in so much emotional turmoil…and, indirectly, it was his fault. 

"I'm sorry," he whispered, lowering his head sadly.

"For what?" a female voice replied. Wayne jumped a bit in fright (at first thinking he was being spoken to by Cassandra) and whirled around to face not Cassandra, but Maddie.

"Maddie…it's my fault she's so upset," Wayne murmured. Maddie gave a quiet sigh of frustration through her nose and patted Wayne on the shoulder as gently as she could while resisting the urge to roll her eyes.

"Campbell, you've been dead for 18 years," Maddie said softly. "Why are you responsible for her feelings?"

"Because…I think she might still love me, and that's not allowing her to love Hiroshi…"

"Be honest with yourself, Soup Can," Maddie retorted. "Do you really want her to love Hiroshi? Or is some small part of you glad that she's hung on for so long?"

"I don't want her to be upset," Wayne groaned in reply, sinking onto a box—this one was labeled 'kitchen stuff'. "God, now I'm talking in circles…"

"Wayne, you had nothing to do with this," Maddie gently told him, taking his hand and helping him up. "Now, c'mon…James is waiting; he needs to talk to you."

Only long after Maddie waved her hands in a few small circles to make them disappear did it occur to Wayne that Maddie had called him by his real name.

…………………………………………………………………………

_**Right or wrong, black and white…cross the line, you're gonna pay…in the dawn, before the light…live or die by shades of grey…**_

…………………………………………………………………………

**W**hen Wayne opened his eyes, he could see that he was in the same room as where he had first met James, and said angel was seated at his desk, with a rather grim look on his face.

"Wayne, Maddie," he greeted them. "Please, sit down." He gestured to two chairs that Wayne swore hadn't been there before. Ignoring this, they seated themselves.

James took a deep breath and hesitantly began to speak. "I think we may have found our perpetrator."

"Excellent!" Wayne said. "Who is it?"

Maddie and James shared a look. "…Matthew Bowman," Maddie answered carefully.

Of all the names that James could've said, Matthew Bowman was the one name that left Wayne floored. "What—Bowman? That kid who gave Brittany the Mirthmobile?"

"Yup," James replied grimly.

"_He's_ the one that killed me?" Wayne still appeared to be in disbelief that a teenager could've been responsible for his death. "Wait, he wouldn't have even been _alive_ then, would he have? How could he have been the one—"

"We think he has some way to manipulate time," Maddie cut him off uneasily. "We think he somehow went back into the past and killed you then…Wayne, they never found who ran you down…it was a hit and run driver, they said…but if Bowman had returned to the future, then that would explain why they never found him."

Wayne was silent for a few minutes, thinking. "But…why?" he said softly after a long pause. "I don't even know him…"

"He's related to someone you knew," James said, shuffling through a stack of papers.

"Huh?" Wayne said, a confused look on his face. "He's not related to Garth or Cassandra, is he?"

"Nope."

"…Stacy?" Wayne's nose was scrunched in disgust at the thought of his ex-girlfriend—a psycho hose beast who had tried to give him a gun rack for their anniversary, despite his having broken up with her two months previously.

"Nope."

"Who, then?" Wayne inquired with a hint of frustration in his voice.

"He's Benjamin's nephew." As James put his papers back in order, Wayne did a double-take. It had been said so casually, Wayne was sure that James was joking.

"What?"

"Benjamin's nephew," James said again, "the son of Benjamin's sister, Alexa Bowman."

"Are you kidding me?" Wayne blinked. "Of all people…"

"I wish I was kidding you, Wayne," James sighed. "But…there's something you need to know about Bowman—"

"How do I beat him?"

James flinched in surprise. "Excuse me?"

"I can't come back to life until he's out of the way, right?" Wayne retorted. "How do I beat Bowman so I can come back?"

"Wayne's right, James," Maddie offered. "If we revive him now, it'd be pointless…Bowman could just hunt him down and kill him again…"

"Maddie, there has to be a peaceful way to defeat Bowman," James sighed. "We're angels."

"Like I could forget," Maddie shot back. "But he needs to stop Bowman, if he ever wants to come back to life."

As the two angels argued back and forth for a while, Wayne thought long and hard. Was this really what he wanted to do? If he came back…would he be able to patch things up with Garth and Cassandra? He tucked a piece of hair behind his ear and interrupted the argument between Maddie and James.

"If you guys don't mind," he said, "I'd like to think about it for a bit…"

"Learned your lesson after selling 'Wayne's World', didja?" Maddie wryly smirked.

"Yes, I did," Wayne muttered through gritted teeth. "I'm not screwing that up again."

"Of course you can take some time to think, Wayne," James cut in, attempting to head off a potential argument. "Hey," he shrugged, "it's your afterlife."

…………………………………………………………………………

_**Right or wrong, black and white…cross the line, you're gonna pay…in the dawn, before the light…live or die by shades of grey…**_

…………………………………………………………………………

**W**ith permission from James, Wayne was watching the Algars once more before making his final decision. He looked in on Brittany first, who was sound asleep. Wayne knelt beside her bed and gently tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, trying not to wake her. Fortunately for him, she didn't stir, which prevented him from having to explain exactly what he was thinking about doing. He wanted to avoid an explanation simply because he wasn't sure what he wanted to do himself.

Next, he glanced in on Garth's children, Kimberly and Dan, in their adjoining bedrooms. Both were sound asleep as well. Wayne smiled gently at the sheer resemblance between the kids and his former best friend. Dan could've been Garth—at least from the first time that Wayne had met him, when they were both second graders at Aurora Elementary school. And Kimberly was developing into a fine young woman who knew what she wanted and how to stand up for herself. It certainly interested Wayne as to where that gene came from, considering that neither Garth nor Betty Jo were the type to stand up for themselves. _Maybe a dormant gene from Garth's mom?_ He thought.

Last but not least, Wayne entered Garth's room. Garth and Betty Jo were both sleeping, sort of snuggled up to each other. Wayne chuckled a bit at this and was content to sit on a dresser, watching them for a bit while thinking.

_What would I amount to if I came back to life?_ He thought. _I mean…I never knew what I wanted to do with my life…I never got to finish Waynestock…_ At this, a chilling thought occurred to him. _What if some lives are just meant to be useless? …what if some people are just destined to take up space?_

Sitting on the dresser and thinking about all of this made Wayne's head start to hurt. He gently rubbed the bridge of his nose and groaned. When a groan replied to his, Wayne jumped up a bit, looking up at the bed and giving a small yelp of surprise when he saw Garth looking up, too.

_Please, God, let me be invisible,_ Wayne mentally grumbled. Garth's eyes widened a bit and he fumbled to reach for his thick-lensed, black glasses, shakily putting them on after retrieving them. He took a good, long look at Wayne and swallowed hard. When he opened his mouth to speak, Wayne cut him off.

"I'm not invisible, am I?" he asked, putting one hand over his face and peeking out through his fingers. Garth slowly shook his head, seemingly unable to find any words. "Look, I know this is kind of strange, but I need to be going anyways—"

"No, don't," Garth quickly interjected, finding his voice at last. He carefully slipped out of Betty Jo's arms and slowly walked over to the dresser. "…is it really you, Wayne?" he whispered after staring at his friend for a moment.

"Yes," Wayne nodded, for once unable to come up with a witty retort. "I…I'm sorry I woke you," he awkwardly added.

"That's alright," Garth replied. "Seeing as this is just a strange dream, I'd say you didn't really wake me."

"But this isn't a dream, man," Wayne argued. "You wouldn't believe the shit I've been through…" He proceeded to tell Garth just exactly what had been going on for the past week or so, leaving out the part where had read Cassandra's email.

When Wayne came to the part about Bowman allegedly being the one who had killed him, Garth looked down and sighed a bit. "I always knew that kid was trouble," he murmured. "And…when I was at the scene where you died…I looked around and saw this kid in a car, behind the steering wheel, with cheek-length, black hair, and cold, brown eyes…and he had this awful smirk on his face. And then he disappeared…when I started screaming about it," he continued, "everyone called me crazy…Cassandra told me that I must've imagined it…polite way of telling me I'm crazy," he muttered as an afterthought. "And then…imagine my surprise when, years later, I saw him in the neighborhood…I about had a coronary…but he never let on…that's partly why I was so upset about Brittany getting the car from him—yeah, she told me it was him," he said at Wayne's shocked expression. "I…I really do care about her, and I worried…if I wasn't crazy, and that kid really was the one who was there at the accident, I couldn't help but think that he might've wanted a clean job."

Wayne shuddered, clearly understanding what Garth meant. "But…why would he have picked up the Mirthmobile for Brittany if he wanted to kill her?"

"Who knows," Garth muttered, "the world's going to hell because of screwed up people like him."

Wayne glanced over at Betty Jo and smiled softly. "So…you two ended up together, then," he said, not really meaning it as a question. Garth nodded.

"Yeah, she's great," he said. "She…she really stood by me after you died, even after Cassandra bolted for California with Bobby…"

"Yeah, I already know, don't remind me," Wayne grimaced. "But…why doesn't she wake up, if she hears you talking?"

"Betty Jo could sleep through a bomb raid," Garth scoffed in reply. "Once, when Kimberly tried to make a Mother's Day breakfast for her, she ended up setting off the smoke alarm with the toast…Betty Jo slept right though it, but I was up as soon as I heard her put the bread in the toaster."

"…toast?" Wayne laughed. "Toast, of all things?"

"Seriously," Garth shook his head. A silence fell over them, and Garth looked out of his window and sighed. It was nearly two full minutes before he spoke again: "…you know, this dream is different from all of the others…"

"How?" Wayne asked, resisting from reminding Garth that it wasn't a dream.

"…you didn't leave in this one," Garth softly said, turning to face Wayne.

Wayne didn't reply as he looked away.

"In every other dream, just as I was about to ask if you could forgive me for ignoring you…you disappeared," Garth continued. "And…I just wondered...maybe you never forgave me…and that's why you always left…"

Wayne put his arms around his friend at that. "There was nothing to forgive," he whispered.

Garth smiled gently, feeling more at peace with the memory of 1993 and his friend than he had in a very, very long time. After a moment of silence, Garth ventured into new territory: "So…you said you'll be able to come back?"

"If I can find a way to defeat Bowman," Wayne replied grimly. "And if this kid can travel through time, I don't stand a snowball's chance in Hell…"

"Well, you and Maddie and James could think of something, right?" Garth questioned, having been filled in on the identities of Wayne's angelic protectors.

Wayne nodded. "Hopefully."

Something else occurred to Garth. "You can interact with real objects?"

"Some," Wayne replied. "It seems to be kind of random what I can and can't touch, though. I can interact with you because you were asleep for a while, which put you close to the Spirit World or whatever…I don't remember; James tried to explain it once, but it just made my head hurt."

A dark shadow stirred behind Wayne. "I know what'll make your head hurt even worse," a hoarse voice rasped from the darkness. Wayne stumbled a bit at this, falling off of the dresser, but quickly trying to right himself. Before he could, the shadow lashed a chain out at him, which wrapped around his ankle. Gritting his teeth, Wayne struggled to pull away, but another chain fastened around his other ankle before he could get free. Garth, having finally shaken off his shock, attempted to help his friend, but the shadowed figure gave the chains wrapped around Wayne's ankles a good yank, pulling him hard to the floor and out of Garth's reach.

"Garth," Wayne shouted as another chain latched around his wrist, "get help, now!"

"What do you want me to tell them, that the ghost of my best friend's being attacked by a dark shadow?!" Garth yelled back, realizing just a moment too late that the shadow was attacking him with chains as well. As one wrapped around his legs, Garth noticed that the chain wasn't metal—it was more like an (cliché alert) embodiment of darkness, and stronger than anything that Garth had ever seen in his life. It was a dark shade of ebony, with a purple vapor surrounding it.

"Well, do _some_thing!" Wayne grunted, grasping the leg of the dresser in a vain attempt to pull away from the shadow, which had lashed out a fourth chain that wrapped around Wayne's other wrist. "Hey, wait a minute," he said to the darkness behind him, trying again to pull away. "This doesn't hurt my head—you said you know what'll make my head hurt worse, you dumb cow!"

"I do," the shadow rasped back. "It's this." Without warning, the silhouette brought down something hard on Wayne's head, rendering him unconscious.


	10. No Escape

**W**hen Garth opened his eyes, he noticed that he was lying on his bedroom floor with a young woman that he didn't recognize working to undo the shadow-like chains around his legs. Before he could even ask who she was, she spoke.

"Morning, sleeping beauty. Glad to see you're alright. My name's Maddie—Maddie Stoner."

After blinking for a few minutes in sheer bewilderment, Garth asked, "What the hell are you doing here? Who _are_ you?"

The young woman sighed, brushing a long piece of tan-coloured hair behind her ear as she struggled to remove the chain. "Weren't you listening? I'm Maddie Stoner. I'm here to help, as is my associate, James Hart. Look, once I can get these chains off of you, James and I will explain everything. By explain, I mean James's mouth will move like a duck's butt for a few minutes and I'll just smile and nod."

By the time Garth could think straight enough to figure out what she had said, she was already finished undoing the chains and helping him up.

…………………………………………………………………………

**_Right or wrong, black and white…cross the line, you're gonna pay…in the dawn, before the light…live or die by shades of grey…_**

…………………………………………………………………………

**"G**arth!" Betty Jo cried when Maddie and Garth had entered the living room, throwing her arms around her husband. "Thank God you're okay…we weren't sure what was happening!"

Dan jumped up from the couch where he and Kimberly were sitting and threw himself at his father's legs, making Garth stumble a bit. "Daddy, Daddy, Daddy," he chanted. "I was good! I kept Mommy and Kimby safe from the strange man!"

"He was very brave," Betty Jo said, grinning a little bit to show her amusement at her son's proclamation, "but the young man who tried to explain the situation to us was no threat." Garth chuckled and looked around the living room.

"Hey, where's Brittany?" he asked. A young man with brown hair and light hazel eyes—Garth guessed that this was the man who had tried to explain the situation to Betty Jo and the children—cleared his throat a bit, attracting Garth's attention.

"Uh…Mr. Algar, I checked out her room to be sure that she hadn't been attacked as well…and I found this…and, the Mirthmobile's gone, too…" He handed a piece of white paper to Garth, the latter feeling his stomach sink before he even looked at it.

_Garth, Betty Jo, Kim, and Dan— _

_Look, please don't think I don't appreciate what you all have done for me…I just don't want to leave Aurora and move to California, so I'm leaving to find my Mom tonight… _

_Thanks for everything, _

_Brittany Campbell _

_P.S.: Garth—I'm sorry that I had to read your email to find out where Mom lives… _

As Garth reread the words over and over, the brown-haired young man tried to comfort him. "Garth, you and Betty Jo have done wonderfully with raising 3 children…taking Brittany in was very kind of both of you, and she did appreciate it…she just wanted to find Cassandra…" Realizing that his words were taking a turn towards unhelpful, he trailed off lamely as Maddie put a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"James," she softly warned. "Let's explain this quickly and go…we need to find Wayne." The young man, James, nodded.

"Please, Algars, sit," he urged. When all four were seated, he spoke again. "Picking up from where I left off with Betty Jo and the kids…last night, when Garth was speaking with Wayne's spirit, a mysterious shadow attacked them both, absconding with Wayne and leaving Garth on the floor after rendering him unconscious."

"Wh…Wayne's spirit?" Betty Jo interrupted. "As in Wayne Campbell?"

James nodded. "Though killed in 1993, he is currently working to return to life, but while deciding if this was the right thing for him to do—probably hoped to reach his decision by speaking with Garth—he was taken by the shadows…we haven't been able to find him yet."

"Who's 'we'?" Betty Jo continued. "And…why, thank God, didn't that thing kill Garth?"

"I am James Hart—God's right-hand-man's-right-hand-man's-right-hand-man, sort of. My friend and associate, Madigan Stoner, is a guide-in-training…after ample training, she will lead newcomers to heaven. We're just sort of behind-the-scenes people…only people with special cases like Wayne meet us.

"As for why the shadow didn't kill Garth—and I'll pass the thanks on to Him—" James pointed up towards the ceiling meaningfully "—Maddie and I think that the 'shadow', as we seem to be calling it, wasn't expecting to run into Garth…he just wanted him out of the way momentarily, so rather than take the time to kill him, he just rendered him unconscious…plus, he doesn't seem to register you as much threat, any of you." After this, there was a pause in which Betty Jo hugged Garth and her children tightly, grateful that none of them had been hurt by that _thing._

"What was so special about _Wayne_?" Kimberly spat, putting venomous tones on the name—she had never met Wayne, but she knew enough about his past with Garth; he and her father had had a row shortly before his death. That alone angered her enough—that he hadn't even had the decency to make up with Garth.

"Kimberly," Garth cautioned gently, knowing the reason for her anger and putting a hand on her arm.

"Well, Wayne was _not_ supposed to die on June 26th, 1993," James countered, either ignoring or not seeing the girl's anger. "We believe a young man named Matthew Bowman was the cause for his death, travelling back to 1993 and running Wayne down before returning to the present."

Kimberly leapt up. "Matthew Bowman?! I _knew_ that guy was trouble! I knew it from the minute that Brittany agreed to get that car from him!"

"Congratulations," Maddie snipped, "that's absolutely _no_ help to anyone now!"

"Maddie," James muttered, with a sidelong glance towards her, "not now."

"But why," Garth asked, "would he want to kill Wayne?"

Maddie and James exchanged a silent look. "We…we don't know," James admitted frankly. "We're…sort of hoping Wayne can figure out why while we work here…and that we can save him before Bowman kills him. _Again._"

…………………………………………………………………………

**_Right or wrong, black and white…cross the line, you're gonna pay…in the dawn, before the light…live or die by shades of grey…_**

…………………………………………………………………………

**W**hen Wayne finally came around, he saw that he was in a dank, dirty basement, alone. There was no light at all, save one weak lightbulb, hanging over Wayne's head. One of the first things he noted was that he was chained to a chair, held fast by the same chains that had attacked him and Garth back at the house. Though he figured it would be futile, Wayne struggled with all of his might to free himself of the chains. Nearly 23 minutes later, it was pretty clear that Wayne wasn't getting out of this one. Angrily he tried to kick his foot, which was chained to a leg of the chair.

A familiar voice floated from the darkness of a corner in the basement. "You amuse me, Campbell," its owner chuckled wryly. Wayne sighed when he laid eyes on his captor after the latter stepped into the dim light from the lightbulb.

"So, it _was_ you, Bowman," he muttered.

Matthew Bowman frowned. "You just won't stay dead, will you?" he growled, standing before his captive. "You should've just given up back in 1993!"

"I suppose I'd be dumb to ask just _how_ you killed me then?"

"Boy, you _are_ thick," Matthew laughed, though the laugh held no mirth. "I time travelled and ran you over, moron!"

Wayne, who at the moment was a bit more annoyed with Bowman than worried for his safety, rolled his eyes. "I got that part," he sighed. "I meant more like _how_ you time travelled and ran me over!"

"Yes, I was getting to that," Matt smirked. "I found a way, through my close connection with the spirit world, to travel back in time…once there, I found you pretty easily…hotwired a car, and just mowed you down…you never saw it coming…I debated about running Garth down, too, but from what Benjamin told me, he didn't mean much…" His smirk grew at the obvious anger on Wayne's face that came from insulting his best friend. Before he could form an angry retort, Matt cut him off.

"Oh, what do I mean by 'close connection' with the spirit world?" the young man said. "I've always had a powerful sixth sense, even as a child…so strong, in fact, that when I sensed you in this era, I could find you easily. I knew it was you, on top of the car when I took Brittany to the dump…and I saw my chance to kill you again." At this, for some reason, he frowned a bit. "Frankly, I was a bit confused as to how you could be back, seeing as how I'd already killed you years before…but one day, while looking at a manga in a bookstore—Yu Yu Hakusho, I believe?—it came to me, through the plot of the story…a plot which is strangely parallel to your fate," he mused, pacing.

Wayne gritted his teeth and again strained to free himself. At his efforts, Matt looked up and sneered a bit. "Forgive me for not explaining sooner, but those lovely chains adorning your wrists and ankles…they're shadow chains, forged from the very darkness and evil of this world. Very convenient in that, if wrapped around a spirit, they force said spirit back to reality by bogging them down with the evil of the world…damn near impossible to break, too, unless you're an angel, or assisted by one…and your little angel friends won't be able to find you, Wayne," he chuckled. "I've ensured that the house is protected against spirits of any kind, so they won't be able to get in…provided they even find you."

Bowman abruptly ceased pacing and pulled a gun out of his waistband. "Since you're real once again, it'll be that much easier to finish you off. And this time," he bared his teeth, "there's no escape."

* * *

**((A/N: Hmm…I'm almost not as happy with this chapter as the others, but I'm not quite sure what I could've done to change it for the better…not implying it's perfect—far from it; I'm just saying I have no idea what I could've done…oh well, I needed at least one dry explanation scene:-\ I'll try to make up for it by putting chapter 11 up soon!)) **


	11. Apology and Preview

**((A/N: **I'm sorry the last chapter was kind of a disappointment…well, to my three reviewers: I hope this 'chapter' doesn't let you down!

I realize this is a short chapter, but it's a work-in-progress preview of chapter 11…I realized the other day it's been about a month since my last update, and I don't know when I'll get to update again with school starting and me being stuck at the moment.

Since this is a WIP chapter, any advice would be greatly appreciated!

To The Illustrious Crackpot—I'm sorry I haven't gotten to read your updates yet, but I will; I'm about 2 weeks behind on fanfiction updates! T.T

* * *

**A**s Wayne stared down the barrel of Matthew's gun, he should've been able to feel his heart pounding against his chest as adrenaline—and, for the first time, fear—coursed through his system 

But he couldn't.

_What the heck?_ He thought. _I can't feel my heart…_ Needing to address this new twist, Wayne fumbled with his hands behind his back, trying to feel his pulse. His movements didn't get by Matt, who cocked the gun and growled, "What are you doing?"

Wayne needed a cover story, and fast. "I'm trying to get out of these chains so we can talk in a calm, civilized manner about why you hate me so much," he declared, momentarily wondering just where on God's earth _that_ brilliant thought had come from.

"Oh, I see," Bowman smirked, lowering the weapon, "you're trying to buy yourself a bit of time, hoping your little guardian angels will save you…I told you, they won't be able to find you…even if they could, there'd be no way for them to get in—my home is protected against spirits, remember? But I'll humour you," he continued, sitting cross-legged on a box. "What do you want to know?"

"I told you," Wayne retorted as he tried to twist his left hand towards his right wrist, "I want to know why you hate me so much."

It seemed that Matthew was not to be as calm as Wayne was. "You ruined my uncle!" he shouted, a crimson colour tinting his face. "You took…you took everything he had...you pulled your show from his networks, humiliating him _and_ Noah Vanderhoff—Vanderhoff had a lot of money invested in your show—you took his girl—"

"Hey!" Wayne snipped. "Cassandra was mine long before your asshole of an uncle ever came along!" Before he could continue further, Matt was on him immediately, shoving the gun under his chin and titling his head up.

"Never talk bad about him," Matt snarled dangerously. "EVER!

* * *

**((A/N: I** think that for the first time in a while, I'll be able to finish a fanfiction! Yay! Well...provided my ideas work...thanks again to everyone who's reviewed and helped me out so far! 


	12. Need to Know

**A/N:** What's this?? An update of SoG from Banjkazfan?! What is the world coming to?!

Well, I decided that the fic is about as done as it can be for now. I just need to sit my ass down and finish this. So, if there are any readers left, here's the entirety of chapter 11.

And there's what could be seen as a continuity error in my logic at the end…don't worry; I'm explaining it in the next chapter :)

Thanks in advance for reading—hopefully this helps things be less confusing!

And, uh, yeah...sorry, most of it's from the preview. So I'm a lazyass. Meh...

* * *

**A**s Wayne stared down the barrel of Matthew's gun, he should've been able to feel his heart pounding against his chest as adrenaline—and, for the first time, fear—coursed through his system.

But he couldn't.

_What the hell?_ He thought. _I can't feel my heart…_ Needing to address this new twist, Wayne fumbled with his hands behind his back, trying to feel his pulse. His movements didn't get by Matt, who cocked the gun and growled, "What are you doing?"

Wayne needed a cover story, and fast. "I'm trying to get out of these chains so we can talk in a calm, civilized manner about why you hate me so much," he declared, momentarily wondering just where on God's earth _that_ brilliant thought had come from.

"Oh, I see," Bowman smirked, lowering the weapon, "you're trying to buy yourself a bit of time, hoping your little guardian angels will save you…I told you, they won't be able to find you…even if they could, there'd be no way for them to get in—my home is protected against spirits, remember? But I'll humour you," he continued, sitting cross-legged on a box. "What do you want to know?"

"I told you," Wayne retorted as he tried to twist his left hand towards his right wrist, "I want to know why you hate me so much."

It seemed that Matthew was not to be as calm as Wayne was. "You ruined my uncle!" he shouted, a crimson colour tinting his face. "You took…you took everything he had...you pulled your show from his networks, humiliating him _and_ Noah Vanderhoff—Vanderhoff had a lot of money invested in your show—you took his girl—"

"Hey!" Wayne snipped. "Cassandra was mine long before your asshole of an uncle ever came along!" Before he could continue further, Matt was on him immediately, shoving the gun under his chin and titling his head up.

"Never talk bad about him," Matt snarled dangerously. "EVER!"

…………………………………………………………………………

_**Right or wrong, black and white…cross the line, you're gonna pay…in the dawn, before the light…live or die by shades of grey…**_

…………………………………………………………………………

**B**ack at the Algar's, a worried look flashed across Maddie's face. She turned towards James, speaking in a low undertone.

"Bowman's starting to get aggressive," she murmured. "I'm getting weird sensations from Wayne…fear, but not pain…even though I can sense Bowman's hurting him, there's just fear…no pain…"

"Wait a minute," James cut her off, "that's it!" When everyone looked at him, he couldn't help but grin a bit, joyful about his epiphany. "Fear, but not pain! Bowman didn't bring Wayne back to _life_—he just brought his _spirit_ down to the real world with those 'shadow chains'! Wayne's nothing more than a solid spirit! That's why Maddie's getting sensations that Wayne's being 'hurt'—she can feel his fear, but not his pain, because spirits—even solid ones—don't feel pain! However, even though he can't feel pain, he could still be 'killed' again…since he has a 'body', though not a fully functional one, he could still be killed…"

Betty Jo furrowed her brow and pressed a hand to her forehead, thinking hard for a few moments. "_What_ did he just say?" she blurted confusedly.

"Don't worry about it," James said with a wave of his hand, "technical mumbo jumbo. What's important now is that we have to save Wayne before Bowman figures out what's gone wrong! But…" His face fell a bit. "They could be anywhere…"

Dan, who had wandered over to the window, piped up a bit with a smile. "I know where they are!"

Betty Jo gave her son a bit of a frown. "Danny, don't play games," she scolded. "The nice lady and man don't have time to fool around."

"Wait a minute," James interrupted Betty Jo. "Your son could be onto something." He knelt down next to Dan by the window. "How do you know where they are?" he asked gently.

Dan pointed at a house down the block. "I dunno," he said, "I'm just getting a really, really weird feeling from that house way down there…can't you see the funny purple clouds around it?"

James squinted in the direction that Dan was pointing. His eyes widened as he saw just what Dan was talking about. "Maddie, come look at this," he called. When Maddie looked out the window, her eyes widened as well.

"My God," she whispered, "how can that kid have seen it and we didn't…?"

…………………………………………………………………………

_**Right or wrong, black and white…cross the line, you're gonna pay…in the dawn, before the light…live or die by shades of grey…**_

…………………………………………………………………………

"Alright," Wayne growled as Matt removed the gun from his neck. "Go on, don't stop now—tell me how you _really_ feel, Bowman!"

"You humiliated him," Matt spat back. "Cassandra left in a huff to go after _you_, and never spared him another glance! After coming back from your house that night, when Benjamin had tried to get her back, he was saying that money and fame and power weren't what was important! You shattered his beliefs and values!"

"Fair enough," Wayne replied. "But Benjamin's a big boy, Matty…why not let him fight his own battles?"

"For years, I always admired Uncle Benjamin," Matt retorted, almost immediately. "I admired how he wasn't afraid to do anything to achieve the fame and wealth that he wanted…but then, for years after everything with _you_, he started to complain and rant, 'that damn Wayne Campbell ruined my life'…Mom tried to convince me he was just kidding, as did he, but I knew that was a lie! And I vowed to find a way to take revenge on the one who had destroyed him. And then, I did." He raised the gun. "Enough questions," he sneered. "Now I get the pleasure of putting you down…_again_."

Just as he was ready to pull the trigger, Bowman lowered the gun and smirked. "Hmm…on second thought," he murmured to himself, "I think it would only be fitting if you were to suffer a bit before I finish you off…Wayne, do you know where your daughter is?"

Wayne swallowed hard. "Brit's…at home with the Algars, isn't she?"

Bowman grinned dangerously. "No, Wayne," he said with a maniacal grin, "she_isn't_ at home with the Algars. She's on the road right now, on her way to find her Mommy…but, once I get behind the wheel, she won't ever find Cassandra."

"NO!" Wayne shouted. "Oh, Jesus, God, _no_," he moaned, straining to escape as Bowman smirked at him. "Please, don't hurt her!"

"Stop it, Bowman!" a voice cut through the air harshly. "Don't you ever touch this family again!"

Bowman whirled around to face the intruder and gave a start of surprise. "You—you're that angel that was with Wayne!" he snarled. "How the hell are you in here?!"

Wayne, who had been wondering the same thing, could only pull together enough thought to squeak "Maddie!"

"Please," the young woman scoffed, "you think that He'd send me down here without the ability to become solid?"

"Well, _that's_ how you slipped through my protective shield," Bowman replied, giving a grimace of defeat. "But I don't think you'll be able to get through _this_!" He lashed out his arm so quickly that Maddie couldn't see just what hit her. The only thing she could comprehend was the sudden stabbing pain in her gut. Her mouth dropped open in surprise as her horrified shriek of pain shattered the stale, basement air.

"_MADDIE!_" Wayne screamed, struggling to get free.

_Oh God,_ Maddie thought, unable to stop screaming. _It's been so long since I've been solid…I forgot just how painful Hell-weapons are! Holy sh—!_

Matt smirked, striding over to the writhing angel. "I believe _this_—" He ripped the sword that he had hurled at her out of her gut, eliciting another scream from Maddie "—is _mine._"

"Dammit, MADDIE!" Wayne shouted. "Aw, FUCK!"

* * *

**A/N: **Sort of a cliffhanger here, but I at least thought I owed you guys this much. 

Hopefully more to come..!

--bkf


	13. Intervention

**A/N: H**oly plot hole. I just realized that I said in chapter 10 or something that Bowman's home was protected against spirits _**of any kind**__._ Apparently that excludes solid spirits. Er, I guess there's really no excuse for missing that.

…_shit!_

Oh my god, did you guys see it? On the MTV Movie Awards 2008, Mike Myers and Dana Carvey did a _Wayne's World_ skit together! Shocking, since I always assumed that they wouldn't ever work together again…so, yeah, that kind of inspired me to get off my lazy ass and write some more.  
**…………………………**

Chapter 12

**B**owman turned to Wayne with a smirk. "People who care for you seem to get hurt often, don't they, Campbell? First, your friend Garth, back on that summer day—he was broken when you died—then Cassandra—she loved you—then your daughter, when you left her that night that you first met…and now, your angel friend." He gestured at Maddie, who was still writhing in pain on the floor.

"W—Wayne," Maddie whimpered softly. "D—d—"

Wayne felt his heart break as he watched Maddie try to call to him. "God, Maddie," he begged her, "please, don't move—you'll only hurt yourself more—"

"Don't—let him—" Maddie inhaled sharply with a slight hiss, pressing her hands to the wound that the weapon had caused.

Wayne turned furiously to a still-smirking Bowman. "What did you do to her?" he demanded of the teen.

Bowman shrugged. "Not much. Just a little bit of Hell-weaponry." He pointed the sword at Wayne. "Nice piece of work, huh? Weapons like these are handmade out of brimstone from—well, Hell, where else?—and are designed especially for damage to angels." The long, black blade glinted dangerously at his words. "See, what it does…it does damage to their souls. And if an angel's soul dies, they're pulled from heaven…they go to Purgatory."

Wayne had to raise an eyebrow at this. "Purgatory? Why not Hell, since that seems to be the pattern?"

Bowman gave Wayne a wry smile. "Purgatory, Campbell, is much…_much_ worse than Hell. It's a realm of darkness—a purgatory of souls where no light ever shines through." He gave a small shrug. "_Yu Yu Hakusho_, Volume 2. Try reading once in a while, Campbell."

"You call that _reading_, you—you low, vile, scum?"

Bowman turned to face the new voice and chuckled a bit, shaking his head. "Oh, how cute…the other angel is here."

"J—James?" Maddie weakly called. "You—" Bowman slashed her arm with the sword, drawing forth another pained scream from Maddie.

"_Maddie_," James whispered hoarsely, standing frozen in the doorway. His brown hair cast a shadow over his face as he watched Bowman raise the weapon over Maddie. "Bowman—don't—don't you dare—"

Matt abruptly pointed the sword at him. "Well, you're here now; may as well come in the whole way. I'm curious—how'd you know this was the house? I imagine you've been watching me, but with focusing on Wayne, you wouldn't have time to track me to here, yeah?"

James cautiously stepped into the room, despite seeing Wayne mouth at him _"get the hell out of here"_. "Well," he began, "one of the Algar children has an amazing sixth sense…he saw, in his words, 'funny purple clouds' that were floating around this house."

Bowman chuckled, putting his face into his hand for a moment. "Oh, he saw the aura from my evil spirit…I get it," he said. "I never did learn how to effectively hide that…" He glanced up. "But you're too late—what did she say your name was? Oh, yeah—you're too late, James." Matt twirled the sword deftly about his fingers. "I'll kill your girlfriend first, and then I'll kill Campbell—gotta make sure he's really dead this time—and then I'll move on to you. Then, I'll—"

"…Maddie?" James half-whimpered. "You…please, don't hurt her…" His feeble pleading fell on deaf ears.

Bowman raised his sword over Maddie's still body. "I think a stab straight through should do it, yeah?" he smirked, tormenting the already-heartbroken angel.

"…James," Maddie whimpered softly. "I—please…help me," she begged.

Before Bowman could stab her, James was across the room in a flash, ramming into the teenager and knocking him off-balance. "What the fuck are you doing?!" Bowman growled, trying to regain his footing. James roughly grabbed Matt's temples and stared deep into his eyes. With bared teeth, the angel squeezed his eyes shut and muttered something under his breath in a foreign language—_maybe Latin?_ Wayne wondered later.

Bowman struggled to free himself for a few minutes, but eventually his eyes became blank and he slumped to the ground with a dull, vacant look on his face. Only then did James realize what he had done and stumbled backwards, feeling violently ill, before collapsing next to his fallen comrade.

"James," Wayne whispered, half-afraid of the angel's powers, but half-worried for the angel, who seemed horribly shaken by what he had done. "What the hell did you do?"

"D—Divine Interv—intervention," James stammered, feeling as if he would throw up. "It—it has the capability to change someone's way of thinking..." Despite his fear, he was able to competently think and explain what had just occurred. "…have you ever been about to do something bad, and then at the last minute…changed your mind? That's the result of…an angel watching you, and using Divine Intervention. But the intensity of the angel's feelings…changes how powerful the force is. It can also be used to…save someone's life in an accident—"

Maddie let out a soft moan of pain, and James immediately forgot his own worries. "Maddie, talk to me," he begged her. "Are you alright?"

"I—got a freakin—_sword_ in my gut, James," she grimaced. "I'd say—no, I'm _not_ alright…"

"We—we need to get you back to heaven," James said, trying to clear his head as he lifted Maddie into his arms with little effort.

"What do I do?" Wayne said, worried for both of his friends. "I can't come with you trapped like this—"

"When I…stopped Bowman," James said uneasily, "the chains should have disappeared. You may not have noticed with all of the other things happening, though."

Wayne glanced down at himself and saw that James was right; he had been freed. He grimaced and rubbed his wrists, feeling the imprint that the chains had left on him.

As Wayne stood and joined them, Maddie grasped James' shirt. "James," she pleaded, feeling weaker by the second. "I—I need you to know—even after you—"

"Maddie, don't try to talk," James said forcefully. "You're gonna be okay. I promise you."

Maddie gritted her teeth in pain. "No—you need to know—even after you died—James, I never—never stopped loving you…" Suddenly she shuddered and went limp in James' arms, her long, tan hair curling around his forearm.

It took a moment for James to comprehend what Maddie had said. "Oh…oh, God," he moaned. "Maddie, _no_…don't say that; you're gonna be _fine_…"

Wayne watched James' composure deteriorating before his eyes and grabbed James by the shoulder. "JAMES!" he barked. When James faced him, he had only a blank look on his face. "James, you've got to get us up to heaven," Wayne said, "or Maddie might not survive. You need to do it _now_, got it?"

James stood in silence for a moment before nodding and closing his eyes tightly. As he muttered a few words of prayer under his breath, he unconsciously tightened his grip on Maddie.

…………………………………………………………………………

_**Right or wrong, black and white…cross the line, you're gonna pay…in the dawn, before the light…live or die by shades of grey…**_

…………………………………………………………………………

**W**hen they reappeared at heaven's gates, Maddie already appeared to be recovering a bit from the attack. She opened her eyes and looked up at James.

"James," she murmured softly.

He looked down at her, kissing her forehead tenderly. "Shh, don't talk," he gently chided. "We're gonna get you all fixed up, okay?" Maddie nodded silently in reply and closed her eyes again.

James walked through the gates with Maddie still in his arms, but Wayne was stopped at the gates by another angel.

"Mr. Campbell?" she said, a worried look on her face. "You're needed down on Earth right now. There's a slight problem."

"Uhh, I'll do what I can," Wayne said confusedly. "What's up?"

"There's just been a car accident…I'm afraid that your daughter was involved."

...

**A/N: O**kay, for some reason, I'm not as happy with this...seems almost like an anti-climactic end to the Bowman saga. I dunno...I'm just crossing my fingers that it's acceptable for my readers :)

More to come - I promise!

-bkf


	14. Once Again, Once Again

**A/N: W**ell, everyone, here we are again! And here I am, hoping that I haven't totally written myself into a corner. I will be so happy if I can actually finish this story , considering I probably won't ever finish _Holding My Last Breath_ (maybe that's kind of nice, actually). It's short now, but I wanted to get something posted.

Hey, who can spot the random change from my CYA (**C**over **Y**our **A**ss) moment?

…………………………………

"**B**…Brit was in an accident?" Wayne whispered hoarsely. "No…God, that means I was too late to save her…"

The angel frowned and checked her clipboard. "Excuse me, I'm a bit ahead of myself," she apologized, a worried look crossing her face as she read her notes. "It says here that Brittany Campbell is to be in an accident at 10:36 am…and right now, it's 10:30 am. Mr. Campbell, if you're planning to go—"

When she looked back up to address Wayne, he was already gone, charging towards the bright lights in the clouds, hurrying to reach Earth once more. He shut his eyes tightly as he was engulfed by light, his mind focused on his daughter and saving her.

"No, wait—MR. CAMPBELL!" the angel screamed. "If you don't know what you're doing, you'll be lost on Earth as a solid spirit FOREVER! Come BACK here!"

Beyond the gates, Maddie chuckled softly in James' arms. "Lady, you want to control a Campbell? Good luck with _that_ one."

…………………………………

**_Right or wrong, black and white…cross the line, you're gonna pay…in the dawn, before the light…live or die by shades of grey…_**

…………………………………

**W**hen Wayne's vision cleared, he was sitting in the passenger seat of a car. His eyes darted around wildly before landing on the driver.

_Bowman?_

"You—what the hell are _you_ doing here, Bowman?!" Wayne shouted. Matt glanced over at him and, rather than panicking, smirked.

"You know how they say the evil a person does will stay behind after the person dies?" he chuckled. "I'm not Matt—not really. I'm a part of his evil spirit." And with that, he pressed the accelerator to the floor, forcing the speed of the car to far beyond the speed limit. When Wayne spared a glance at the speedometer, he saw that they clocked in around 80-some miles per hour. He looked out of the windshield and, with a sinking heart, saw the Mirthmobile driving along in the same lane, but heading towards them. It was a good 50-some yards down the road still, but Matt's speed was rapidly closing the gap.

"Please, Bowman," Wayne begged. "Think about what you're doing!"

"I _have_ thought about it, Campbell," he shot back darkly, eyes never leaving the road. "I've dreamed about it ever since I ran you down. I've planned to wipe out your entire family, and erase the humiliation done to _my_ family."

Wayne gritted his teeth and shut his eyes tightly, realizing just a bit too late that his cocky-ass attitude with Benjamin had gotten not only himself, but his entire family, into a world of trouble.

_If only I had just thought of a better way to handle it, _he thought. _…if only I hadn't tried to rub it in Benjamin's face…if only I could've talked to Cassandra alone, rather than humiliating Benjamin in front of her…maybe it would be different…maybe I wouldn't have died…maybe people I cared about wouldn't be hurt…maybe—_

Suddenly Wayne's eyes snapped open. _Maybe it's not too late._

"Bowman," he said. "You know what you said about the evil a person does being left behind?" He turned and stared right at Matt. "I think it's actually the _good_ a person does."

……………………………………

_**Right or wrong, black and white…cross the line, you're gonna pay…in the dawn, before the light…live or die by shades of grey…**_

……………………………………

**B**rittany was driving down the barren road, absently fiddling with the radio, when she suddenly looked up and saw the car heading right for her.

_Huh, weird,_ she thought nervously. _What the hell is _this_ joker doing?_ He was still a good ways down the road, so she decided to wait for a minute or so to see if he pulled back into his own lane. By the time she realized that he wasn't going to, it was too late for her to do much—he was going far too fast for her to react.

"Oh, _fuck_!" Brittany gasped, grabbing for the steering wheel and jerking it roughly to the left. At the same moment that she tried to turn, the other car swerved harshly to the right, harmlessly grazing past her car. She glared out the window, trying to see who it was that had nearly crashed into her, and was shocked to see Wayne in the passenger seat of the car. And—was that _Matthew Bowman_ he was wrestling for the steering wheel?

Wayne glanced out of his window and caught her eye, smiling peacefully, feeling content to know that she was safe now.

"D—Daddy?" Brittany whimpered. Her soft whimper turned into a full-out, bloody-murder scream as the car her father was in smashed headfirst into a tree.


	15. Dead Like Me Again Preview

Just another preview...I need to do more with this.

…………………………………

**U**p in heaven, Maddie and James, joined by one more angel, were watching the whole scene.

"WAYNE!" Maddie screamed. "You're such an IDIOT! You weren't supposed to get killed AGAIN!"

"Maddie, please, calm down!" James begged, trying to soothe her. "Wayne saved Brittany, and that's what he was sent down to do. He did it, Maddie, he did it…" Maddie gave a small, hiccupping sob as James held her close. "…he did it…" he repeated softly. "…oh, God, _why_ did he have to die again? He had so much promise…so much life…"

The other angel with them gave the two a small nod. "Madigan, James…would you please go meet him at the front gate?"

…………………………………

**D**own on Earth, Brittany had never stopped screaming. Though she had heard many times to never move an injured person, she ignored it completely and dragged her lifeless father out of the car. "Dad, PLEASE!" she screamed. "Please, open your eyes! Don't die on me again! _**DAD!**_"

At his daughter's screams, Wayne slowly opened his eyes. He looked around, seeking Brittany, but it only took him a moment to realize that he was floating in the sky once again.

….


End file.
